Truth Can't Set You Free
by LiveOnRoses
Summary: When the Librarians come across an artifact that stimulates truth, they find a way to harness that power to their advantage. Unfortunately, sometimes there are things better left unspoken. A case in which Baird feels too much like a mother, Flynn gets too excited, Jenkins learns how to deal with problem people, the Librarians are those problem people, and Moriarty hates his life.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing. If I did... literally nothing clever comes to mind.

Enjoy the story!

* * *

"So. This Sphere of Truth. It's exactly as straightforward as it sounds, right?" Baird looked toward Jenkins with her 'bored yet curious' expression resting lightly on her features. Yet even despite that indifferent expression, her back was rigid and arms crossed with one finger drumming silently on her forearm.

"I would assume so, yes. We haven't exactly encountered this particular artifact before, so I can't say for certain. However," Jenkins lifted a thin, brown book that looked like someone's old journal, "according to this, "The one who holds the artifact will have bestowed upon themselves an inclination of heart and readily honest mind deftly prepared to rid itself of any mistruths for those of whom seek his or her purity of heart."

He placed the book back down on the table as Ezekiel raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "That's basically saying that the person holding the thing can't lie, right?"

"Not only that, but they will almost be... forced to speak or act upon the truth. Anything that they've said in the past that have been lies, or any half-truths, will be amended. I suggest not having Mr. Jones hold it for fear of what he might reveal."

The quick, nearly nonexistent, smirk on Jenkins' face could have easily been missed, but Baird's trained eye caught it the moment appeared. She hid a smile of her own. Despite their constant banter, Ezekiel and Jenkins had a paternal relationship that was one of a kind.

Ezekiel frowned. "What's that supposed to mean, mate?"

Cassandra moved in swiftly, floral skirt trailing in behind her like a gentle breeze had cocooned itself around her. "Soooo," she began in an attempt to quell any possible confrontations. She bounced on her toes and clapped her hands together, "do we know where it is right now? The clipping shows New York, but is there any way to know if it's been transferred somewhere else somehow?"

Jake gave a noncommittal shrug. "We could talk to the people that had it. Y'know. See how they passed it around. This latest guy," he pointed to a monochromatic man that looked less than happy to be photographed. Understandable. After all, he had just told his wife that he'd been cheating on her with one Betty McCarthy for five years. "We should try 'n start with him. I'd bet he knows where it is."

"As if he'd be willing to talk."

"Oh, oh! I've got it. We can just tell him that it was a stolen artifact from some fancy museum in Italy! As simple as algebra." Cassandra smiled. "You know. Because algebra is... nevermind."

"Okay, librarians. Now that we've got a plan, let's go take a visit to New York. Again."

The front door became shrouded in an overwhelming glow of light before Ezekiel pushed it open and stepped confidently through. Cassandra and Jake followed soon after.

Baird held back a moment to smile at Jenkins. "Wish us luck." She then stepped through as he looked up to shoot her a thin-lipped smile.

* * *

Her vision was washed out in blinding light before she was thrust forward onto a sidewalk. Jake was suddenly there, ready to catch her in case she needed any support, but she brushed him off. "Alright." She looked at three people surrounding her. "Let's see if we can get more information on this... Sphere of Truth from Jeremy Abbot. I'm sure we will be convincing enough to get some info from this guy." She smirked.

"Sounds great. Where's Jeremy?" Ezekiel looked toward Baird.

She turned slowly to look at Ezekiel with a "how stupid are you?" expression. "Where do you think, oh, Wise One?"

He turned around to see that they had stepped through a door attached to someone's shed. He whipped around to his left to look at the archetypal example of a suburban home. "Right. This is it."

The building looked to be approximately two stories tall, painted a pristine white over wood. A gray van was parked outside the garage door, various stickers littering the back window. Each symbolized different teams that Jeremy's kids were involved in -two kids, Baird notes. Both are girls: Kelly and Hannah. Gymnastics and softball.

Cassandra was already walking to the front door, muttering out her introduction under her breath. Ezekiel bounded on after her, scanning the walls of the building and its matching white-framed windows. It looked like something that came more out of habit than intent. Baird tucked a reminder in her brain to warn him about appearing suspicious in front of an unsuspecting audience. Not that he'd really need the caveat. Obviously Ezekiel would be fine; she just liked to play it safe.

Cassandra rang the doorbell and took a small step back.

The door opened immediately after. A woman wearing a deep scowl glared down at Cassandra. "I told all the paparazzi to go home. You are no exception. Now, get!"

"No, no! We're not the paparazzi. We're the Librarians," was Cassandra's immediate response.

The woman's tear-stricken eyes lit up in uninterested understanding. "Oh. I see. Come on in. The kids are with my sister right now. Jeremy's in the kitchen."

"Okay. Thanks!" Cassandra responded, painfully happy.

They stepped in and moved past the woman to the direction she had pointed to. A man was hunched over a drink and sitting on a bar stool. Jeremy looked up at the four people that had entered into his house with clouded eyes. "Hm," he said.

Jake stepped forward first this time. "Hey. I'm Jacob Stone, and these are a few of my associates. We're the Librarians. Y'know."

Jeremy sighed and nodded slowly. "Yeah. You must be the ones lookin' for that... thing. Take it for examination or a museum. I don't care. Just... get it away from me. Oh, yeah. I don't recommend touchin' it either."

Baird tilted her head. "And why's that, if you don't mind explaining it to us."

He grunted, and the smell of beer wafted into Baird's nostrils. He must have been drinking a lot lately. "It sticks to ya. Like some..." he waved his arms around momentarily, "jellyfish. Can't get it off you. It'll make you wanna spill everything." He sighed again. "If I di'nt know better, I'd say it was magic."

"Don't be ridiculous, mate." Ezekiel placed his hand roughly on Jeremy's shoulder, who flinched at the sudden contact. "There's no such thing as magic. Now. Where's the sphere?"

Jeremy stood up off his stool. "I'll bring you to it. Here." He reached over the counter and grabbed what appeared to be a pair of tongs. "You're gonna need to use these to pick it up."

Jake reached over and grabbed them before Ezekiel could reach them. "Thanks, man." Jake gave a satisfied smirk to Ezekiel. Baird shook her head when the master thief stuck his tongue out in response.

They followed the man silently as he brought them to the Sphere of Truth. He pointed to a small, wooden box on top of a desk inside an office. "In there." Baird didn't fail to miss the hateful expression Jeremy gave them. "Help yourselves."

He exited the room, leaving a trail of muttered words in his wake.

Ezekiel was already examining the room for anything of significance that might pop out to him. Cassandra tapped Baird's shoulder.

"I'm going to go talk to his wife. Maybe she can tell us more about the Sphere of Truth's effects on Jeremy. That way we can have more records for it in the library."

Baird nodded as Cassandra walked away.

"Aces."

Jake looked to Ezekiel, his face contorted in confusion. He then turned to Baird, who shrugged.

"There is literally nothing here. He was just some boring drongo."

Baird closed her eyes. "You were right. His accent IS getting worse."

"Hold up..." Ezekiel sat down at the computer. After a few moments, he grinned. "Got it. He got it from some other guy that dug it up at a Zerekonian burial sight. Whatever that is."

Jake moved behind Ezekiel to get a glance at the open email on the screen. "Sherokian, idiot. That's where the book said it'd be, so that makes sense." The two of them leaned closer to the screen to continue reading. "Huh. Seemed eager to get rid of it."

"He probably experienced the same effects as Jeremy. Wanted to get it off his hands and onto Jeremy's. Smart." Baird grabbed the tongs from Jake's hand. "Do either of you have a bag that I'll be able to put the sphere in?"

"Why don't we just take the box with us?"

"Because, Jones, that would be stealing." Baird paused. "But I suppose that's not a bad idea. One of you go ahead and get Red. I think we can label this as a success."

* * *

Jenkins placed the box, cracked open slightly, onto a mantle then clapped his hands together to remove any invisible dust. "Well done. You actually got an artifact like this without any... incident."

He turned around just as the door opened, revealing a mildly flustered Flynn. "Hello, everyone!" He wobbled around before finding a steady shelf to lean on. "I see you have... something, what, exactly, is in that box?"

"We got ourselves a Sherokian Sphere of Truth, and she is quite a beauty." Jake lifted the lid and a slight, fluorescent golden glow was released.

"Nice one." Flynn sauntered over to the object after becoming immediately transfixed. "I've always wanted to get one for the Library. It would make a good interrogation device." He reached over to the box only to be pulled away by Baird.

"Flynn. No touching."

He made a 'crap, I forgot' expression and shrugged. "My bad. Slipped my mind completely. Did you know that once you hold it, you can't let go?"

"Ooh, ooh! I did! I knew that!" Cassandra waved her hand up in the air and bounced on her toes. "Mrs. Abbot told me that she had to use those tongs to get it off his hand. It was like he couldn't let go, but she didn't want to touch it herself in case it got stuck to her."

"Like a jellyfish," said Ezekiel.

"I remember Jeremy saying that. And you, Mister Flynn Carson, have given me an idea." Baird grinned down at him. Flynn raised a curious eyebrow.

"Have I?" He smiled at her. "I have."

"Yes, you have. You said earlier that Prospero was looking for a more powerful magical artifact, correct?"

"I think I see where you're going with this. And yes, he still wants more magical things to help build up his own power."

Baird turned to others. "Librarians. I have a plan."

* * *

"So your plan is to basically attempt to outsmart the smartest person in the room? Sounds great. I'm positive that Ezekiel won't screw that up."

"Woah there, mate. I'm catching on to your sarcasm there."

"Hold on a minute." Flynn raised on his palm to cut short Jake's reply. "It isn't like he's even that much smarter than us. I mean, c'mon. It can't be that hard."

Baird rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Flynn. You're still a genius."

"Aw." He placed his fist to his heart. "That means a lot coming from-"

"But Moriarty has outdone you in the past, so we have to stay on our toes."

Cassandra flinched for Flynn. "Ouch."

Jenkins had pulled the Sphere of Truth from its box using the tongs and was examining it. "I do believe this should work. The Sphere of Truth emits a very strong magical pull. I'm almost certain that if Prospero is looking for powerful magic, he would want this. The real question is," he placed the orb-like object back into its encasing. "will he send Moriarty to get it?"

Baird shrugged. "We have to hope so. Last time there was a huge surge of magic in one place he sent Moriarty."

"But he didn't get any of the Library's magical artifacts. We were able to run away with them, remember? So Prospero might not trust him." Ezekiel shrugged. "I don't know if I would."

"Well, actually, he did get the Staff of Knowledge, so..." Cassandra gave him a weak smile.

"So he most likely will send Moriarty to get it," Jake finished. "Plus, Prospero will probably be trying to work with the magic he has now to accomplish whatever it is he's tryin' to do."

"Then it's settled," said Baird. She smiled at each of her librarians. "We're going through with the plan. Do we need to run through it again?"

Ezekiel snorted. "No need, Colonel Baird. I think we can handle it."

* * *

Hope you liked it! This is more-or-less a prologue. Reviews are always welcome, and if you have any ideas to include in the story, let me know! I'd be happy to consider (especially if it has to do with Moriarty :) ).

The plot will actually start to unfold more in the next chapter~


	2. Chapter 1

Thank you to everyone who followed and favorited my story! I absolutely love the support. Thanks especially to StarlinHero'99 and the guest who reviewed! Here's a long chapter for you all. :)

Disclaimer: *crying* I own literally nothing here. Nothing.

Also, not sure if I have to put this here, but I want to be safe: there is some mention of suicide in this chapter. Nothing at all graphic or detailed, just a mentioning.

* * *

Moriarty frowned slightly as Prospero placed a separate copy of Sherlock Holmes dismissively on the table. It obviously bore some kind of significance to Prospero, but he didn't know what. Could it be used to control him? Was Prospero reading his storyline to keep him in check somehow? Moriarty had a limited understanding on this MAGIC, or as he preferred to think about it, undisclosed science. Being helpless like he was made him antsy, as though he were on a leash. No matter how far it extended, he would never be free.

Moriarty was shaken from his thoughts as Prospero, his handler, hummed thoughtfully. He lifted a curious eyebrow and interlocked his fingers behind his back. "Is there a problem?"

Prospero turned to Moriarty and smiled. "'Tis time to practice what I've attained

for my magic has scarcely been rehearsed,

lest my powers start to get strained

as would truly be the obverse."

Moriarty nodded. "How, exactly, do you plan to practice?" He avoided shearing his question with suspicion. He didn't want Prospero upset with him. The electrifying bolts from the first time he angered the magician were warning enough. He had enough intelligence to recognize when not to poke the bear. "And in lay terms, if you may." Ah. Perhaps a slight pull of fur wouldn't hurt. Testing the waters to see just how deep they are.

Prospero gave him a quick glance of disapproval. "If you so desire, I suppose I could do you that one small favor. Even if it was requested due to simple sloth on your part."

Not exactly Moriarty's intent, but he did suppose that it would provide a sufficient amount of convenience on his end.

"I am simply going to, for lack of a better explanation, recreate a juncture from within a story. It would take a greater deal of effort to create even a mirage of something as such than it would to have simply plucked thou from thy story, so it would make for quite thee trial. Before my powers were taken it would have been simple, but now I'm not quite as certain."

Moriarty shifted his stance and swallowed. "And this story juncture you are attempting to recreate? Does it involve myself?"

Prospero smiled, and the criminal mastermind resisted the urge to groan.

"You shall see soon, villain."

"Antagonist," Moriarty murmured.

"I suggest thou stands back."

Without waiting for Moriarty to move out of the way, Prospero began reciting something long since memorized. Sure enough, the pages of Sherlock Holmes were flying, whipping along fast enough to rip themselves out by the seams. Something akin to a tornado tore itself around the book with enough force to push Moriarty back a few steps further. He held his arm over his face but peeked through with lidded eyes.

Ink began to pool out, integrating with the whirlwind. Prospero's eyes were closed as he uplifted his voice to emphasize the final lines of the spell, but the moment he opened them surprise blanketed his face. Annoyance followed shortly after as the ink seemed to take a life of its own and filtered out under the door until it was gone completely. The wind died down leaving pages strewn across the floor of the room.

"Hm. Perhaps I require more respite ere I attempt this once more. It appears that I may also need another source of supernatural ability to adequately restore that which hath once been stolen from me."

He tore his gaze from the book. "Thou can use thy sprite to locate the closest object. Now, hie! I do not have time to wait and ponder."

"Of course. But if I can dare to ask, what happened to the book?"

"I said hie! We will worry about it later! It shall not interrupt our objective, for I am above such a petty inconvenience. Now go!" Prospero growled out.

* * *

"Is it set up?" Jenkins asked over the phone.

"Yeah, yeah. It's all ready. Glass casing and all." Ezekiel responded, fatigue frosting his tone.

"The Stones of Rie are within the exhibit?"

"Yeah. Sealed underneath. You'd have no idea that they were there."

"And the Sphere of Truth?"

"On display. Not too obvious, not too dull. Don't worry Jenkins. I've done this kind of thing before," he responded.

Baird took the phone from the younger man's hand. "No need to worry. Everything is under control. Clever by the way. Using those stones to make the sphere seem to be more powerful."

"Yes, a convenient trick for any librarian," Flynn interrupted. "They radiate loads of power but serve literally no purpose. It's great!" He paused his fast paced trot across the room to bask in the awe of artifacts before just as quickly continuing along once more.

"Don't worry Jenkins. I'll call you if we need help or if something remotely significant happens." She hung up the phone and placed it back in Ezekiel's palm. "Is everyone ready?"

"I got the stones ready. They'll start radiating power any second now. More specifically in eight, seven, six-"

"Great, Cassandra. Stone?"

"I'm ready to come in from beside him. Jones already said he doesn't see me."

"Good. Jones?"

"I'm up here with the cuffs and chains. The soundless ones."

"Okay. And Flynn?"

"In the armor over to your right."

"Fantastic. Cassandra, you'll be with me. Once he's in, we'll go in. Flynn will join us, and Stone and Jones will come in after for the trap. You see why plans are helpful?" Baird pointedly made her voice louder at the last sentence.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Flynn's voice noisily reverberated around the room.

Baird took a deep breath. Thank God. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Now they just had to rely on Lady Luck and pray that Moriarty actually showed up. "Ready, Red? Let's head out the doors and wait for the signal from Jones."

The two women exited the door just as the sphere began to emit an ominous glow.

* * *

The room that Ariel took him to was large. It had been easy to surpass the defense system: the sprite disabled the entry alarms for him. Moriarty was convinced that he would have been able to get through resistance himself, but the use of magic was far more efficient.

It was dark for the most part. The only light was that of a single sphere. No lights illuminated the other artifacts, to which he could derive the obvious conclusion that the museum was closed. Drapes lined the walls, thick and velvety. Everything in the room had to bear some form of significance. Probably royal property. The ceiling were vaulted and cloaked in darkness. Not even the vibrant object brought light to the ceiling.

He walked across the wooden panels. Each exhibit was lined with Persian rugs. Authentic, of course. Each footfall felt like a deathtrap, but he continued to take in level breaths of air. He briefly glanced through the descriptions of the artifacts but was certain of one thing. Ariel was leading him to that glowing sphere.

Moriarty snapped the watch closed and stepped up to the object. The description called it the Angel Gem. Not something he was familiar with, but that went for most magic up until a short time ago. He read on more as it claimed that the artifact was made of angel tears dropped from a waterfall in Zimbabwe.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. This exhibit seemed off. Everything else had no mythological significance, and none of it originated in Africa. Europe appeared to be the continent of provenance.

He took a steadying breath. Prospero said he wanted something magical. Ariel instantly led him here. Even if the gem was out of place, even if this was a trap, he needed it.

Moriarty placed his cane against the base of the exhibit and began working on removing the glass.

The moment he was able to remove it, a sound came from above. Before he could identify it, the door burst open and two people flooded inside.

"Ah," Moriarty said. The recognition was immediate. "Duchess. Always a pleasure. And Miss Cillian. I hope that you are still feeling quite well." He offered a smile that obviously seemed to carry extra meaning to the red-haired girl based on her immediate frown. So she must have an illness based on how negatively she acted toward a question only mildly regarding her health. Most likely severe. Fatal, yet not all-inclusive considering she looked and acted just fine. "It is always a pleasure to run into you."

Baird had pulled herself to a stop and placed her arm in front of the other girl to stop her advancement as well. Surprise was evident- almost too evident- as she looked up at him. "Moriarty. The pleasure is all mine. But whatever you're doing, stop.

He lifted a curious eyebrow. "Any why, pray tell?"

"We need that Angel Gem far more than you do. Whatever reason Prospero sent you to get it for-"

She was cut off as a suit of armor clattered to the floor. Baird flew backwards until she seemed to recognize the assailant once the helmet was taken off his head. "Flynn? What are you doing here?"

"Me? Oh, I'm here to get- Moriarty! Whoa, no, no, no. What are you doing?"

Moriarty looked between the Librarian and his guardian before setting the glass casing onto the floor. "As much as I resent to decline your request, Duchess, I must take this back to Prospero. He claims to require something extremely powerful, and Ariel thinks that this is it."

Baird didn't attempt to move forward. Neither did Cassandra. Flynn only took two steps before stopping. He squinted his eyes and looked among the three of them. "This here..." he paused before waving his arm outward to encompass the room and the three other people that occupied it, "seems like it must be a trap." He paused for a second more before sighing. "No matter." He grabbed the gem and looked it over for a moment. Then he closed his eyes and bit a curse off his tongue. "Where are the other two?"

Someone emerged from the drapes directly next to him with a rod and swung it. It caught Moriarty in the midsection, and he fell to one of his knees. With his free hand, Moriarty grabbed his cane as Baird yelled, "Now, Jones!"

Before he could swing out in a quick retaliation, he was pushed to the ground by a form from above. His ankles were cuffed and the cane was taken from his hand. Moriarty attempted to face his attacker as a chain was wrapped around him, trapping his arms next to his sides.

"Hey there, mate." Moriarty was pushed onto his back. "Looks like we caught you." Ezekiel smiled and looked over at Jake.

Jake, the country boy, as he had formerly called himself, was holding a metal rod like a baseball bat. He looked all too pleased. "You'll be seeing more of us later. Night, night."

The last thing he recalled was bracing for impact as the shaft approached his head.

* * *

Cold. Moriarty woke with a start as water like ice drenched his face. He shook his head and looked up.

Baird stood there. She was smiling.

Moriarty returned the favor. "Why hello to you as well. I trust that you are in good spirits?"

"Why, yes. How about you? Are you in good spirits?"

"I," he was going to make a sarcastic retort about being just fine, but instead he said, "no."

At his surprise, Baird shrugged. "Yeah. It happens. How are you feeling about that artifact you're holding?"

Moriarty looked down at it. "Not too well, especially considering I have no idea what it is. After all, the whole thing was a trap, which I was suspecting. Except I didn't actually think I'd get caught. That thinking is probably what got me here and why am I still talking?" He looked up at Baird.

She moved behind him and squeezed his shoulders none too gently. "That thing is called the Sphere of Truth. You can't lie with it." She removed her hands and crossed her arms. "And better yet, you'll feel _inclined_ to tell us literally everything we want to know."

He frowned slightly and spotted his cane resting against a wall on the opposite side of the room. "Like how my cane is actually a gun?" He closed his eyes. This was not going to go well for him.

"Exactly like that. Except I figured that out already. Sorry."

"What about-" Moriarty bit his lip and closed his eyes. _Shut up. Don't say anything._

"We need to know what Prospero is planning. Do you know what he's wanting to do?"

Moriarty looked up at the woman. "I don't know much."

"Care to expand?"

"Not really." His face twitched. He turned his nose back down to the glowing orb in his hand.

Baird sighed lightly and pulled a chair over to sit in front of Moriarty. He looked pitiful, hunched over with his bright blue eyes clouded with what she deduced as possible fear. "Look. I'm not here to hurt you," she said, and those bright eyes turned upwards to meet hers. "We need to know what Prospero is doing in order to help save this world. I don't know all of your intentions, but if you force me to find out, I will."

"I told you already, Duchess. I don't know much. And you already know that I'm not lying." He could barely move his arms because of the way he was tied to his chair, but he was quite obviously referring to the sphere.

"But you do know something." Baird paused to think over her next words. "Is there a specific reason as to why you are choosing not to tell me what you know?"

"Yes."

"And what is that reason?"

His faced twitched again. "Because... Prospero has a way of figuring out things. Including things that I'd prefer not to share. There is also the off chance that if he figures out that you have captured me, which is obvious by now, he will attempt to dispose of me. It is in my best interests that I stay clear of his bad side. For now, at least."

"You do a good job at hiding things for someone holding the Sphere of Truth."

He shrugged and smiled.

"But I'm certain that you won't be able to hide things for much longer. That thing you're holding will make you want to reveal even half-truths. You won't hold out. It's already affecting you, isn't it?"

"Quite."

"Exactly. So. Why don't you tell me something?" She put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her palms. "Anything."

Moriarty bit his lip and looked away from her. "I... I don't actually enjoy working with Prospero. What I was telling you concerning my self interest was true."

"And?"

"And that hit I took in the head is throbbing. The "country boy" can swing fairly well, unfortunately. I'm also assuming that your friend, Ms. Cillian, has some kind of terminal illness. That's sad, I think. And I did psychologically manipulate you earlier. Sorry, not sorry. It could have proven useful. You know, we really do have a lot in com...mon. I do not enjoy rambling."

"You already explained to me how we have a lot in common. That wasn't some hidden truth."

"Unless we had more in common than what I told you before." Moriarty rolled his head back. "Why can't I stop talking? No, I actually do know, but I really, really want to stop."

"Ms. Baird?" came a voice. Moriarty and Baird turned to see Jenkins, the former round-table knight, peeking in through a door. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

He didn't sound incredibly urgent, but he may have also grown accustomed to masking many emotions from his tone.

"Of course," she replied, standing up. Without a backwards glance, she left.

Once the door was shut and they were standing in the hallway, Baird spoke. "What's up?"

"Mr. Carsen needs to speak to you. He says that it's urgent, but not in a case of which you should be worried. And don't try to ask me what that means. I have no idea."

Baird sighed and looked up the stairs. "Is he up there?"

Jenkins nodded.

"Can you send one of the librarians in to make sure Moriarty doesn't escape. I don't want a repeat of last time."

"I'll take care of it."

"Thank you Jenkins."

* * *

It was Cassandra that made her way into the room once Baird left. That was a slight relief when keeping in mind his other options.

She smiled shyly at him. Moriarty tilted his head. The gesture was formal. She was accustomed to trying to bring out a positive atmosphere. Odd, considering her situation.

"Hello, Ms. Cillian. You're the person I'd prefer seeing here the most given my situation." And he just said that out loud.

"Yeah," she said. Not even a little fazed.

"And you're here to what? Babysit me?"

Cassandra sat in the chair across from him and smoothed out the wrinkles on her skirt. "I guess so."

Moriarty stared at her, and she shifted in her seat. He leaned back in his own, not removing his gaze.

"Um," she said, "why are you staring at me?"

"To make you uncomfortable."

She gave him a look that a mother might give to a misbehaving child. Then she sighed and her shoulders drooped. "We can talk, you know. About something. Rather than... just... sit here awkwardly."

Moriarty poked the sphere in his hand. Its light rippled like a puddle. "One of the things that makes me comfortable is having complete control over what I speak. I'm afraid that I do not have that luxury now. It is impossible for me not to be awkward here."

"Oh," she said, all grace and eloquence. "That's too bad, I guess. If it makes you feel better, I'm kind of awkward."

Moriarty snorted, also all grace and eloquence, and met her eyes with his own. "Is that because you're separated from most other people?"

Her brows came together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He winced. Why'd she have to ask? "Because... because of your-"

"Right. My brain tumor. That about does it." She smiled. It looked kind, yet painful. "Ezekiel calls it a brain grape. I think that's his way of trying to put things lightly."

Moriarty chose not to respond. He wasn't aware that she had a brain tumor and definitely wasn't about to comment on it.

"At least I'm not letting it control me. I chose my time. I'm not about to let some... thing like that choose my time for me."

Dear, God. His whole body shifted and he gritted his teeth together. His grip on the sphere tightened. No. He was _not_ going to say that.

Of all the things she could have said, she chose that. Of course, she didn't know what it would do to him, but it was far too close. He shut his eyes. _Think of anything... but not that. Anything but that._

It was suicide, what she was speaking of. It was far too casual, far too certain. No girl should have to think like that. And it reminded him too much of-

The Sphere of Truth. He focused all of his thoughts on it, ignored everything but it. That artifact. It was much like Cassandra's brain tumor. It forced its way. He couldn't get rid of it. But no, that sphere was nothing like Cassandra's tumor. She had no way past it, and all he had to do was find a way to get someone to take the blasted thing away from him-

"Moriarty! Look at me."

He took one deep breath. Then another. He finally opened his eyes.

She was concerned. A true, no faking, no hidden motive, concern. "What happened?"

His breath hitched. He needed to say something, so he tried redirecting his thoughts. A truth, but not the one she was seeking. "I suppose that I got too lost in thought. It happens on occasion."

It was difficult to not ramble on, to simply speak more truth about exactly what he didn't want to, but he managed.

Cassandra nodded. "Believe me, I understand."

"Prospero accidently unleashed something."

 _Wait, what?_

"What, _what_?" Cassandra asked, suddenly leaning forward.

"I... I did not mean to say that."

"But you did! What did he 'unleash'?" she asked using air quotes.

"I don't know for a fact. I mean, I could conjure a guess, but it is quite unlikely that I'd be accurate based on the lack of information I really have. But it is part of why I was sent after this sphere. He told me to be quick. How long have I been here?"

"Hold on, let me get this straight. He unleashed something that you don't know, but he sent you to get a powerful source of magic to what? Fix it? And you were supposed to do that quickly?"

"Precisely. I think. He wants to become more powerful."

Cassandra was standing now, and she looked around the room in high alert. "I'm going to get Ezekiel and Jake, and you are going to help us," she said, her voice demanding. "Please," she finished after a pause.

Then she exited.

* * *

"So what is it that's so urgent?" Baird asked Flynn, who was flitting around, grabbing the occasional book and throwing it away until he finally seemed to settle on a certain one.

He slid over to her. "Okay. What we have now is the Sherokian Sphere of Truth, right?"

"Right."

He pointed at her. "Exactly. But! Did you know there are more of them? We have the Sherokian Sphere of Truth, but what about the Meronian and Aplichian ones? Now, according to _The_ _Book of Myths and Inquiries_ , the Aplichian Sphere of Truth was destroyed by a dragon because it started to tear at the structure of-"

"Move along, Flynn! Aplica or whatever is destroyed. What's your point?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Ap-lick-eey-an is destroyed. However," he pointed to a photo, "the Meronian one still exists."

"And your point is?"

"My point is that we need to get it before someone else does. I've already narrowed down the location using our artifact finder thingy."

"And?" Baird asked expectantly.

"And it's on display. In a museum." He stopped moving for a moment and gave Baird a sidelong stare.

She seemed to understand, and nodded. "We need someone to steal it."

"Exactly. And we happen to know a really good thief."

Suddenly, the door opened and someone cleared their throat. Both Baird and Flynn turned to look at the intruder. Jenkins was standing in the doorway, exchanging his gaze between the two. Then, "Cassandra has requested that you come back down, if you're able. It appears that Moriarty has slipped something up."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. Now I have a question for all of you: What secrets do you think Ezekiel is hiding? Anything embarrassing/awkward/etc? What about the rest of the Librarians? There's a good chance I may use your idea in the story, so leave what you think in a review!


	3. Chapter 2

Thank you so much, Pumpkin, for the review it means so much!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.

Without further ado, here's the chapter!

* * *

Flynn couldn't help but think that Baird must have practiced long and hard to achieve her hair-raising steely glare as he attempted to mimic it with a hard gaze of his own.

Where Baird got a certain aura of respect, he got an indignant and quite honestly rude snort.

"You're going to have to work a little harder on that, mate," said Ezekiel, who had been responsible for the snorting.

Flynn gave it up, instead choosing to simply ask questions. "So Prospero performed a spell on the book in an attempt to recreate an event. How?"

"I already told you. I don't know how."

"And he was apparently just practicing in order to get stronger. Why does he need to get stronger?"

Moriarty stared at him looking dejected.

"Hey, Flynn?" said Baird, turning her attention to the Librarian. "Do you have any idea what Prospero's spell may have done?"

Flynn looked up at the ceiling and began to weigh the options. "My best guess is that he released another character. Could be anyone. Except Moriarty. We already have one of those."

Jake lifted an arm up. "Can I intervene here for a sec? Does this mean that there might be another Sherlock Holmes character in the world, except Prospero has no control over 'em?"

Flynn whipped his head over to look at Moriarty, who was obviously deep in thought.

He clapped his hands together. "What do you think?"

Moriarty chose not to respond.

"Mr. Carson, if I may pull you aside for a moment." Jenkins gestured for Flynn to join him off to the side of the room.

They both moved out of earshot, ignoring the questioning gazes of the five others.

Jenkins cleared his throat. "If there truly is another fictional character among us, I'd recommend that we attempt to find him or her. The effects of the Sphere of Truth... are almost exponentially increased when near someone that you are close to or familiar with. You would be far more likely to get answers if you bring that person to Moriarty... That, and I'm sure we would not be keen to whatever may result in Prospero getting to that character first."

Flynn turned to the side and opened his mouth slightly. Finally, "Jenkins, you're a genius. Eve!" He made rapid 'come here' movements at her. She rolled her eyes and obliged.

"Jenkins, tell her what you just told me."

By the time he finished explaining, Baird was nodding thoughtfully. "How do we know there really is a character out there?"

"We don't. But I am going to figure it out. All the while..." he peered over Baird's shoulder to look at Ezekiel, "your librarians will be going after the other Sphere of Truth."

The temperature dropped ten degrees. Not really, but to Flynn, it sure felt like it.

"Again?" asked Baird. "You're leaving again?"

Flynn frantically tried to wave down her voice as Moriarty leaned sideways in his chair to give him a curious expression. Then his gaze turned to Baird, and he said something that Flynn couldn't hear.

"You told her so? What's that supposed to mean?" Jake, however, happened to be louder.

At those words, Baird flinched.

"Eve," he said quieter. "If you really want, I can take either Cassandra or Jake with me, but you and I both know they work the best when they're all together."

Baird took a steady breath. "Fine. You do your own thing. But there's one rule." She turned to Jenkins, who suddenly looked like a cat in water. "Jenkins. Do you mind assisting Flynn in his little quest?"

Jenkins looked left. Jenkins looked right. He made a 'I'm so done with this' face. "Alright. I will assist him."

"Good." Baird smirked. "Then we have a deal."

* * *

It was more denial than anything else that forced Moriarty not come up with the theory that the inky mist that seeped under the door was another character. Stupid of him, really. And his intellect was one of the things he took the most pride in.

It made him uncomfortable to have two people towering above him as Cassandra sat pleasantly in front. He shifted slightly. He'd been hiding far more than he anticipated from the Librarians. They knew how to ask good questions. He hadn't been anticipating that. What was worse was that they'd repeat the same question over a few times, making it more difficult to avoid answering.

He spotted Baird and Flynn walking over and sat up slightly.

"Ezekiel," said Baird, "we need you to steal something."

That seemed to draw the Australian's interest. "Okay. I'm interested. What is it?"

"There's another Sphere of Truth at a museum in DC. It's heavily guarded and with some of the most popular exhibits in the US."

"I'm in." He rubbed his hands together. "When do you want me to go?"

Flynn clapped his shoulder. "As soon as you can get ready would be great. Jenkins! Could you please go ahead and get the door ready for ourselves?" He looked back at Ezekiel. "You and Cassandra will go after we go."

"Sounds good. Just... where exactly are you two going?" Ezekiel asked.

"Oh, we're going to find the loose Holmes character while you get the sphere. That way we cover more ground! Sounds great, right?"

"Calm down, Flynn," said Baird.

"Whatever you say, mate. Get on with it. We'll behave ourselves here." Ezekiel gave him a 'totally am not going to behave myself' smile. Flynn paused for a moment, but shook it off.

"Hopefully Jenkins and I'll see you all soon."

He gave them a quick wave as Jenkins sent the door spinning. A moment before the former knight was about to step through, Cassandra shouted, "Wait!" She ran up to him and gave him a quick hug. "Just in case," she said.

Flynn and Baird had an awkward exchange that almost seemed like it was going to be a hug but instead turned into a formal handshake. Cassandra ran over and eased the tension by hugging Flynn as well before stepping back.

"Good luck!"

Flynn gave a salute and followed Jenkins in a stumble out the door.

"Alrighty then." Ezekiel clapped his hands together. "We have a museum to rob."

* * *

"You see! This here is why I always worked by myself. She'll have no idea what's going on."

Cassandra placed her hands on her hips. "I don't have to know what you're doing. All I do is interact and distract the guests then help you get away. How hard can that be?"

"Oh, yeah? What if you get caught? Then I'd have to do something. It's inconvenient." He tapped his head with his forefinger. "Use your brain."

She gave him a condescending look. "And if you get caught?"

"I won't get caught." Ezekiel shrugged. "Simple as that."

Baird rubbed her temples. "Your bickering is going to give me an aneurysm. And I don't care what you think, Jones; she's going with you. Cassandra's good in the field. And both of you will be coming back perfectly fine. You got that?"

"Is that an order?"

"Yes."

Ezekiel groaned. "Fine. Right now's when the place is the most empty, anyway. C'mon, then."

He dramatically waved toward the door. Cassandra barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes before stepping through. Ezekiel went in after her, and the door shut.

"He just doesn't want to see her get hurt," said Baird to Jake.

He lifted an eyebrow. "And how'd ya determine that?"

She looked back at him with a knowing look. "Trust me. I just know."

"How not at all touching," said Moriarty from his chair. "It doesn't bring tears to my eyes."

"You know what," said Jake, turning around to face the man, "your poor attempts at being as sarcastic as you possibly can without actually being sarcastic since you can't tell a little lie in order to be sarcastic is really annoying."

"That was quite a mouthful."

Baird crossed her arms. "Tell us something we don't know."

"I learned how to drive shortly after Prospero and I escaped through the portal before we went after the Staff of Knowledge."

"Are you serious? Then why'd you make me drive you?"

He didn't flinch that time, so he must have started to become accustomed to unintentionally spilling things. "Remember my remark about psychologically manipulating you earlier?"

Jake looked between the two of them. "Wait, what happened?"

Moriarty rolled the sphere between his palms and peered up at Jake with hooded eyes. "I told her about how alike we are. Builders. I also told her how her Mr. Carson is a runner much like Holmes, and how Holmes' running was a part of why I chose not to work with him." He frowned at himself.

"I'm just more confused now."

Baird held out her arms in 'stop' signal. "What do you mean by his running was only part of the reason? You implied that it had been the whole reason."

Silence.

"Did he hate you?"

"Of course not. We had been friends. And the answer you are seeking is not important."

"Then why are you hidin' it?" asked Jake.

Moriarty glared. "I do not believe it will help you in your attempt to find Prospero. Let it rest."

* * *

"...And I have quite the art collection. Baroque, mostly, but I have some pieces from most European time periods."

Cassandra smiled and nodded, only slightly recalling some of Jake's rambles about this. But she definitely recognized that this man was trying to impress her. Might as well pretend he had.

"Oh? Really? I do love my art as well. The gallery here is quite beautiful, but I'm more of an artifact sort of girl."

"Then I'll be pleased to show you around. My treat." The museum's owner flashed her a dazzling smile; one that she generously returned.

"That would be lovely." She nodded at Ezekiel, who had been busy disabling all of the alarms. He winked to show he noticed before slipping on through more guests.

Ezekiel glanced around the hall in search for the pair of doors that would ultimately lead to the final Sphere of Truth. The tongs were tucked in his jacket and out of sight from all other parties. He searched through, walking only somewhat hastily, but not fast enough to draw suspicion.

Until he ran into one of the museum's many guards.

Both of them fell backwards with an "Oof!"

"Sorry, mate," said Ezekiel. He stood up and as ready to brush himself off when the pair of tongs clattered to the floor. He moved to swipe it off the floor, but the guard reached it first.

He turned it around in his hand before gazing at Ezekiel suspiciously. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to keep these," he stated.

Ezekiel didn't let his concern show, instead giving an 'I'm just some dumb kid' shrug. " 'Kay. I mean, if you really want them." He winked before stalking on past.

He continued down the hallway until he was certain that no one significant was present and slipped through the doors that led to the Meronian Sphere of Truth. He'd have to find a way to make due without the tongs.

A few people lingered in the room, examining all the artifacts for the sake of looking at something interesting, but they all looked fairly bored. Ezekiel stuck around and waited for everyone to lose interest until the final person exited. Once the man left with his wife in his arm, he ran over to lock the doors. Once they were secure, he turned around to look at the sphere and sighed. He turned to look for anything to pick it up with before deciding to worry about that later.

Ezekiel started disabling the security system protecting the artifact and took off the glass. He bit his lip and stared at the glowing green sphere. "What to do with you, mate."

Just then, the doors started shaking. He heard muttering outside and ground his teeth together. Keys started jingling. Ezekiel panicked, but if anyone were to ask, he never EVER panics. He grabbed the sphere, and the doors opened.

As the man's annoyed face and Cassandra's surprised one entered the room, he hid the sphere behind his back and smiled. "I do panic," he said.

Then he abruptly left.

* * *

Cassandra, seeing that Ezekiel already had the Sphere of Truth (nevermind that he was acting weird), assumed that he probably was already making his escape. She herself would be leaving soon, but not immediately. It wasn't their original plan, but considering that the artifact had been obviously stolen and she was standing there with the museum owner, plans must have changed. She'd just have to hope he got out.

The horror on Mark Rassy's face was kind of hilarious, but she didn't laugh. Instead she pretended to commiserate.

"How could this happen?" exclaimed 'Just Call Me Mark' as he circled the empty exhibit like a hawk looking for prey that wasn't even there. "We had one of the best security systems in the world!"

"I can't believe it either. How could a kid just waltz in here and take something so valuable like that?"

He must have taken her attempt at empathy as an insult. "Look, I don't know. I'll try to get the police on it, and we'll get the kid. And don't you insult my security like that," he growled, pointing at her ominously.

She held her hands up in defense. "Well, it certainly wasn't me. Don't you be calling me out like that." Cassandra snuffed for effect and sauntered out of the room. Mark seemed to consider going after her, yet instead decided to pick up his phone.

Ezekiel was waiting for her by the museum entrance, much to her surprise.

Well, perhaps not as surprising as his statement.

"I need help."

She smiled as he notably frowned. "With what?"

"Well. I need to get out. And some security guy took my tongs, and then you led the museum's owner to me, so I had to grab the Sphere of Truth. As in I'm holding it right now. In my hands."

She made an 'oh' with her mouth. "How about we just leave through the front door? I bet that Mark would be having everyone hounding on the back ones. That way we'd make it right back to the library. Then we'll," she pointed awkwardly at his arms, which were still hidden behind his back, "worry about... thay later."

Word hadn't yet gotten out yet about the stolen sphere, so it was easy for the two of them to walk straight up to the front doors with no confrontation, all the while Ezekiel was babbling at Cassandra about something or the other as she silently panicked and calculated the chances of being discovered. The door was opening, and now some of the guards had finally caught on and were running after them and, oh, God, Ezekiel. He was yelling at the door.

"Hurry up! I've been caught once before! It is definitely not happening again, mate! Unless it does, but preferably not now!"

And, of course, it opened up in time for them to stumble on through and shut it behind themselves.

* * *

Sorry for the delayed chapter! I had a soccer tournament that lasted all weekend. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to upload next week because I have finals this week and so far have procrastinated studying. I will, however, get bits and pieces written throughout the week so you all won't have to wait for too long. :)


	4. Chapter 3

Thank you to all those who reviewed (Everything'sGonnaBeAlright, Violet Eternity, ReadersOfBooksLiveManyLives (love that name), and lakariana)! I really appreciate all of the support that you provide! Every word means a lot. :)

Disclaimer: I... *sniffle* own nothing. Nothing.

* * *

Baird was originally against turning around when she heard Cassandra's somewhat quiet 'Oh!' as she fell through the door. That was, of course, until she heard Ezekiel make an overzealous sigh then say, "I was scared we wouldn't make it in time."

She paused. Then she looked. Ezekiel looked like a ridiculous puppy with his hair sticking up like he had stood in the wind for an hour.

"Well? Did you get it?" she finally asked.

"Get what? The Sphere of Truth? Yes. The flu? Once before. ADHD? Don't know. My mum didn't care enough to check. The cold? A few times. The-"

Jake had peaked his head in when he heard the arrival and threw a pencil at Ezekiel. It hit him in the face.

"Ow," said Ezekiel.

"Shut up," said Jake.

Cassandra had her 'I'm awkward' face on.

"Are you holdin' the thing? 'Cause I've heard you ramble, but not like that."

Ezekiel seemed to notice that he was still holding the sphere "secretly" behind his back and pulled it out in front of him. "I am. I didn't really want to have to hold it, but Cassandra brought in the museum owner when I was in the middle of stealing it. Do you remember what I said earlier? About how I should have gone alone? Well, I still probably shouldn't have because Cassandra distracted everyone enough to let me disable all of the alarms, but you know what I mean, mate."

"No. I actually don't."

"Did I ever mention that I _hate_ spiders?"

"You just did, kiddo." Baird walked over and gave him a rough pat on the back with enough force to make him move forward a step.

He made a face. "That hurt. Why's everyone assaulting me?"

Jake looked suspicious. He walked over to Ezekiel. "So," he said, rubbing his hands together, "have you ever-"

"Ah-ah! Don't. How would you feel if you were in his position? Now, go back to Moriarty." She made shooing motions with her hands, and he left grumbling.

"Okay, Mom," he said under his breath.

"He just called you Mom," said Ezekiel.

She lifted her eyebrows in unimpressed annoyance. "Oh, did he now?" She marched off to follow him shouting, "Stone!"

Ezekiel pursed his lips. Cassandra cleared her throat. He looked at her.

"What did you mean by your mom didn't care enough?"

Ezekiel didn't wince. He just didn't. He didn't understand why some people did. He never had the urge to. Instead he internally groaned, which meant he accidentally groaned externally as well. "I didn't mean to say that. But... I mean... why do you think I became a thief?" He shrugged.

"I thought it was because you liked rocks."

"Partially. I do like rocks. Not everyday rocks so much. More like-"

"I know." She felt obligated to stop him. If Ezekiel in a normal day talked a lot, this Ezekiel was an Ezekiel on steroids. "I'm just going to-"

"Get this thing off my hands? I'd really appreciate it. You got any tongs?"

Jake then stepped in. "Hey. Baird wants ya'll in the commons room. It's urgent." He looked at the two of them, who continued to stand motionless. "Now would be nice," he said pointedly before exiting.

Cassandra shutter-stepped, seeming conflicted between helping Ezekiel with his predicament and obliging to Baird's request. Then she made up her mind saying, "I'll find some tongs and help you out later, but if Baird is saying it's urgent..." She trailed off and shrugged. "We should probably hurry."

"Wait!" called out her fellow Librarian. "I need-" He stopped himself as Cassandra scampered away before following after her.

Both Jake and Baird looked up at him when he stepped in. "You still have the sphere, don't you?" Baird asked.

He snorted. "Yeah. You're _literally_ looking at it." He waved the green object around. "What do you-"

Ezekiel stopped talking. As in, he actually halted a sarcastic rant. He looked into space inquisitively. Cassandra cleared her throat and peered at Jake, who had subtly moved to stand next to her.

"Do you," she pointed at Ezekiel. By all means, he appeared to be intently listening to nothing, "know what... he's... doing?"

Jake nodded. "Apparently Flynn told Baird that the spheres are connected somehow." He glanced over his shoulder at Moriarty, sitting in his chair with his jaw clenched and eyes pointedly downcast. "Ezekiel and Mister Smart Guy over here are our guinea pigs to see 'ow." He leaned in closer to Cassandra. "Maybe we could use it to our advantage. Find out what Moriarty can still manage to hide from us while holding that thing."

She nodded. "Smart. I can try to find out the 'sciencey' stuff behind it to better understand the connection."

"I can hear you two _just fine_ , if I may in _trude_." Moriarty lifted his head up slightly to glare at Cassandra and Jake. He looked as though it had physically pained him to have lifted his head and speak, and he quickly resumed his earlier position.

"Defensive, are we?" Jake smirked and crossed his arms. "Ezekiel, you gettin' anything?"

Ezekiel frowned slightly. "Sorry, mate. I don't even really know what's going on."

A small puff of sarcastic laughter was released by the fictional. "Well, Duchess. Today is not your lucky day, it seems." He looked up at Baird through the corner of his eye. "This is cruel, and you know it." He was almost panting, and Baird was quick to take notice. "And I could just as easily intrude upon his inner thoughts as he is attempting to intrude upon my own. All you are attempting could fail. Quite horribly, might I add."

If Cassandra didn't know her guardian any better, she would say that she was completely unaffected by Moriarty's defense. But she did know better. Baird was hesitating. Invading someone's personal thoughts - no matter how important those thoughts were to potentially saving many lives - was a hard call to make. It must have been even harder to have Ezekiel be the one to try to get that personal information, especially in the case that everything did backfire, as Moriarty had so kindly pointed out.

She sensed a small shift of movement beside her. "I have an idea," said Jake quietly enough so only Cassandra could hear. "If we could make 'im have a short lapse in concentration, Ezekiel would get the advantage, right?"

Cassandra thought on it. "I believe so. He appears to be needing to focus on the connection in order to create some kind of mental barrier, but if you distracted Moriarty, that barrier may just go down long enough for Ezekiel to make a move."

Jake nodded. "Good." He curled one hand into a fist. "One distraction, coming up."

He swung and made a fierce connection with the jaw of their prisoner, who yelped in surprise as the chair crashed down, leading him to slam his head against the wooden floorboards. Cassandra internally winced. That one looked like it hurt.

Ezekiel's shared surprise was evident, but what happened next surprised her. The thief stumbled back a couple steps and clutched his head before sitting on the ground. She turned her attention back to Moriarty, who had curled up as tightly as he could while on the chair.

"No, no, no," Ezekiel muttered. "I need to let go, I _need_ to _let go_." He was trying to simply shake the Meronian Sphere of Truth off his hand, desperate, while he left one hand to still pull on his own hair. "He's _in_ my head; I'm in _his_ head, you _have_ to let me go!"

Baird tried to stay calm, but her fear was very thinly veiled underneath her mask. "Cassandra, find some tongs. Hurry!"

Cassandra nodded and darted out of the room. Baird closed her eyes for a moment before marching over to Ezekiel. She bent down to look at his face then took a deep breath.

She pulled the Sphere of Truth from his hand.

Ezekiel shook his head and looked up at Baird. She looked bound by determination, preventing Moriarty from seeping into her head with all the willpower she had as he recovered.

 _Think of walls_. She took another breath. Then waited. Nothing happened. Baird turned her gaze to Moriarty. He was still on the ground, not moving aside from the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

She tilted her head. "Did he pass out?" she asked Ezekiel.

Ezekiel shrugged nonchalantly. "He was definitely awake before." The slight shake in his voice was evident, but Baird had a feeling that commenting on it would be a bad idea.

Somebody groaned. "I am awake. Perhaps attacking me without warning was a bad idea." Moriarty opened his eyes and gazed at Ezekiel. "I suggest keeping to ourselves from this point onward?"

It was phrased as a question, but there was a definite threat behind it. Ezekiel pretended not to notice it. "Y'know what, mate? I don't know what you may have gotten from me, but I know that I got something from you." He stood up. "And I mean more than your annoyance about being unable to get off the floor."

 _He recovered quickly_ , Baird thought. Moriarty didn't look very imposing on the floor, but he still tried.

"And I got more from you than your confusion about what was happening. Would you like me to share?"

Ezekiel shrugged once more. "Not particularly. But I'll do what I need to. Plus, would you _really_ do that?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well then. That's too bad. Especially because I'm more of a self-interest kind of guy."

"As am I," was the retort.

"I have the tongs!" Cassandra ran in, clutching the pair of metal instruments. She scrutinized Ezekiel. "Wait. Where's the sphere?"

"I have it Cassandra." Baird lifted it up slightly to show her, a faint trace of a smile ghosting her lips.

With a perplexed 'oh,' Cassandra walked over and carefully removed the sphere from Baird's hand.

"Don't drop it unless you want to risk something bad."

Cassandra sucked in a breath to keep her chill. "Thank you, Moriarty. That was _very_ enlightening."

Jake walked over to him and pulled the chair back onto its four legs. "You're welcome. Now, do you know what bad thing would happen if she dropped it?"

Moriarty gazed at him with bored blue eyes. "No. I have absolutely no idea if something bad would even happen, but it seems like a logical assumption, yes? Power of this magnitude would almost certainly have some unwanted side effects as a result of unnecessary carelessness, don't you think? I personally think that Prospero would kill me if he finds out about my unnecessary carelessness regarding this Sphere of Truth, especially if you come closer to trapping him as a result of it." Moriarty pinched his eyes closed. "I said that."

"Yeah, you did," Jake stated. "Why would Prospero kill you if he needed your help?"

Moriarty glanced at Cassandra as she placed the Meronian Sphere of Truth carefully in a box. He frowned. "He wanted to find someone who is also intelligent. Perhaps also more loyal and willing to do things for what he believes to be a greater good. Puts the needs of the world before the needs of himself."

Baird and Ezekiel shared a look before looking back down at Moriarty. "Anyone in particular you're talking about?" asked Baird.

Moriarty gazed at her almost sympathetically. "I am beginning to quite reasonably suspect that what Prospero accidentally released wasn't something he accidentally released at all, though his control of it was unstable. You should request that Mr. Carson and your round-table knight conclude their search soon. Prospero will want Sherlock Holmes perhaps even more earnestly then you, especially now that I've taken so long to return."

"That doesn't make any sense. Sherlock Holmes? Why would he want you two working together? And wouldn't he have told you?" Jake demanded.

He sighed. "I'm not entirely sure about the details, but the way he was acting makes a lot more sense now. I can't believe that he played me. Nobody plays me."

"Apparently he played you."

"Mm-hmm. Like a rusty violin."

Moriarty gave them Cassandra and Jake a weird look but just as quickly shook it off. "It's almost like I expect you all to act relatively normal."

Baird rolled her eyes. "So you're saying Prospero released Sherlock intentionally then just sent you away to get more power. What would his motive be? Why would he need another fictional?"

Moriarty pondered on that while absent-mindedly working his jaw. "He may have been planning to use me as a motivation to make Holmes work. If it seemed as though I were working against Prospero rather than for him, I could almost guarantee that Holmes would be far more convinced to work with him."

Ezekiel frowned at Moriarty, and Moriarty returned with a look that Baird couldn't interpret, yet Ezekiel did. He cleared his throat. "I-"

"How would he make it so that you're against him? Aren't you working for him?" interrupted Jake, not noticing the earlier exchange.

Jake received a petty look that involved the prisoner raising his eyebrows and delivering a trivial smirk. "Why, he'd just ask me to act like I'm against him."

"And would you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He scoffed. "In exchange for becoming a free man, of course would-be-a-large-portion-of-the-reason. I swear to God."

It was Baird's turn to smirk as his eyes closed and his head rolled back in annoyance. "And what's the rest of your reason?"

"I know," said Ezekiel.

Everyone looked at him.

"Mr. Jones, if you-"

"Relax, Moriarty," said Ezekiel, distaste enveloping his tone. "I'm not saying." He faced Baird personally, whose surprise had rapidly turned to curious suspicion. "It isn't important. I swear. And if it becomes important, I'll let you know." He looked back at Moriarty, who looked relieved yet... something else, too. Baird packaged that expression into the back of her mind to identify later. "You're welcome."

"I thought that staff was enough to help you."

"I was wrong. He has power over my book." He sighed. "That's still the best way to control me."

Baird held up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait. Why wouldn't he tell you that he was releasing Sherlock Holmes? If what you just said really is his plan-"

"Because I would have exhorted that he desist. You think I would have wanted Holmes in this world?"

Cassandra tapped her index fingers against each other thoughtfully. "Probably not."

Moriarty stopped speaking and once again stared at golden orb attached to his hand.

Baird looked at her three librarians. "I'm going to try to get in touch with Flynn and Jenkins to let them know what's going on. You all keep an eye on him. See if you can find out anything else."

* * *

"Sir, are you certain that is necessary? Certainly wading in the community fountain isn't going to help us."

Flynn turned around and pointed at Jenkins. "You don't know that. And I actually didn't mean to. I was just following Ariel and-"

"An explanation isn't imperative. Actually, I'd prefer that you don't try to explain that to me."

Jenkins looked around the area, ignoring the onlookers as Flynn stumbled his way out of the pool of clear water. "Are you certain that the fairy was leading us... here?"

Flynn moved to stand beside Jenkins and closed the watch. "Somewhere _near_ here. Probably further east. Why?'

Jenkins didn't respond.

"Right," said Flynn. "I'm going to-" his phone rang, causing him to jump and nearly fall right back into the fountain until he squared himself up again, "answer this phone call," he finished like nothing had happened. "Hello... Eve?... Yeah, we're using Ariel to locate the fictional... Seriously... No, you don't understand: are you one hundred percent serious?... I can't believe it! Sherlock Holmes! As in the... Yes, I'll quiet down. I just got excited. I mean," he lowered his tone significantly, "the actual Sherlock Holmes himself in the flesh?... Yes, you can go ahead and explain... Is he sure?... Well, I guess I can get why Prospero wouldn't tell him... Yes, I'll be sure to tell Jenkins... Yes. I know. We have to be the first to find him... All right. I'll see you later."

He hung up the phone and looked at Jenkins. Jenkins blinked. "Couldn't you have just put her on speakerphone?"

Flynn cringed. "Right. I didn't think of that." He opened the watch up once more. "I'll explain as we walk. Warn me if I'm about to run into something. So! They got the second sphere for starters, but Moriarty just told them that Prospero most likely intentionally released Sherlock Holmes. He wants to use him to carry out his whole 'magic up the world to make it better' plan faster, since Moriarty's occasional disagreements have apparently caused some hiccups. We have to find Holmes _before_ Prospero so that Prospero doesn't manage to convince him that helping him would be the greater good." He stopped abruptly and looked at the former knight. "You got all that?"

"Yes, I did. And are we certain that it was Mr. Holmes that was released?"

Flynn started walking once more. "Not certain, but Moriarty was pretty convinced. And since he can't lie..." He didn't feel the need to finish his statement, leaving the rest to be implied.

Jenkins hummed in understanding. "It appears that Ariel is leading us to the hotel right there." He glanced around. "And I think that we should move faster. I have a feeling that Prospero is nearly here."

* * *

Cassandra had left to try to get more research in about the connection between the spheres. After Baird had finished making the call, she asked for Ezekiel to join her to explain in as much detail as he was willing to provide about what happened between he and Moriarty. That left Jake on watch duty.

The two were participating in a very intense stare down. A battle of wits. Not something to be taken lightly.

Moriarty blinked. Jake felt a small rush of victory and leaned back in his chair.

"You do realize," drawled Moriarty in a way that set fire through Jake's veins, "I think that 'staring contests' as you seem to enjoy are rather puerile, correct?"

"Well, I think your British mouth is puerile."

Moriarty's shoulders drooped. "You're acting like a child." He paused. "Daddy issues?"

The only reason Jake didn't slug him right then and there was because Moriarty looked terrified that he had just spoken those words aloud.

"Sorry."

 _Did I just die_? Jake asked himself. "Wait, what? Did you just _apologize_?"

"Yes, however, I didn't actually _mean_ to."

Jake sighed. It would be best to pretend that that awkward exchange never occurred. "What has Prospero told you about his plan?"

Moriarty sighed as his head sagged. "He wants magic."

"I _know_ that already. What else?"

Moriarty's eyes were closed as he hummed in response.

Jake bit his lip. "Do you need sleep?"

"Technically, no."

Jake bit back any sarcasm. "But are you tired?"

Moriarty opened his eyes. "I suppose so. But since I'm-"

"What about food? Do you eat?"

Moriarty rolled his eyes. "I'm no dog." He paused. "But yes, I can eat. No, I do not require it. No, I am not hungry. Happy?"

Jake stood up and stretched. "I'm just attempting to be helpful. If you're tired, go on ahead and sleep."

"Are you going to watch me while I sleep?"

Jake threw up his arms. "Is this what I get for being nice? Because I can always just hit you in the head again and call it a day."

Moriarty winced. "I'll be fine without, thank you."

Jake walked over to the desk, leaving Moriarty still in his line of vision, before pulling out his laptop and opening up the screen. If the fictional escaped, he'd know. That didn't mean he had to keep a constant eye on him.

* * *

When Cassandra stepped into the commons to relieve Jake from watch duty, she wasn't expecting to spot him hunched over a computer screen, typing away while Moriarty sat in the chair with his head lolling on his shoulder and eyes closed, every part of his body relaxed aside from his hands which were clutching the life out of the Sphere of Truth.

She shut her mouth then frowned. "Did you knock him out?"

"What?" Jake closed his laptop and turned his mildly annoyed gaze to her. "No. He's sleeping."

"Hey, mate," Ezekiel said as he appeared in the doorway. "Just so you know, I can take over... looks like somebody gave him a thumper."

"What? No! I didn't hit him! He's just aslee-"

"Librarians, Flynn and Jenkins will probably be back soo- Stone, did you or did you not knock him out?" Baird asked as she walked in to join them.

"No! Why does everybody think that? I didn't hit him!"

Ezekiel held out his palms. "To be fair, you _have_ hit him with a metal rod and punched him in the face already. It wouldn't be much of a surprise."

Jake sighed and rubbed his face. "Yeah, okay. But no. He just fell asleep, okay."

Moriarty groaned in his chair before groggily opening his eyes. "Hmm," he said, glancing blearily at everyone. "Is something important going on?"

"...And I demand to know what's going on. You cannot simply drag me wherever you desire and immediately conjecture that I will follow like some blind dog, no matter how much flattering you are attempting to use to lure me on."

Moriarty turned rigid in his chair and he eyed the doorway immutably.

"No! You're Sherlock Holmes, and I'm just a huge fan! I swear! And we _did_ just prevent you from being kidnapped by a wizard!"

They all heard Jenkins sigh in the other room. "Sir, I am doubtful that continuing to pester him will-"

"If there is one thing you must know, _Mr. Carson_ , it is that I never guess. It is a capital mistake to theo-"

"Theorize before one has data insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories instead of theories to suit facts _I know_. I read your books!"

The man who was speaking finally stepped into view followed by Flynn who was running around his heels like an overexcited dog eager to see his master after a long period of separation. Sherlock Holmes looked like that master's twin brother who hated dogs.

"My _books_?" Holmes stopped moving. "What _books_?" He glanced around looking flustered and vexed before finally spotting all the people in the room directly adjacent to his. He blinked and squinted as though he had just seen a ghost. In all respects, he certainly may have.

"Moriarty? What is _he_ doing here?"

* * *

Sorry for the wait! I hope it was worth it. I love any reviews / ideas / suggestions / requests. :)

Yay for long chapters!

And the season finale is tonight. Who's excited?


	5. Chapter 4

My story has officially gone astray from the validated story-line of the Librarians; however, will contain some spoilers for the finale.

Thank you to the guest and Fan of it all who reviewed last chapter! I love every bit of support I can get!

Disclaimer: I own own nothing. *cries again*

Also, not sure if I have to put this here, but I want to be safe: there is some mention of suicide in this chapter. Nothing at all graphic or detailed, just a mentioning.

Now, back to the story.

* * *

Moriarty refused to take his eyes off of his enemy as he approached him. He was defenseless, in that chair like some sitting duck.

"It can't be," Holmes muttered, grabbing his chin in order to get a better look at his face, to which Moriarty responded with a barely-contained snarl. "I saw him die."

"Well. That solves that mystery," said Baird.

Holmes retched himself backwards. "But it has to be true. This is that man, sitting in front me. Tied to a chair and holding some sphere."

"You want it?" asked Moriarty.

"No!" exclaimed everyone else in the room.

"Was that truly necessary?" Moriarty inquired.

"It must be," stated Holmes, shrugging out of Flynn's grip, who had pulled him away from the villain. He studied it from a distance and tilted his head slightly. "What is it?"

"A Sphere of Truth," came the reply. "I can't lie with it." He was twitching.

Jenkins seemed to take notice of this and stepped forward. "If I may remind you all of what I explained earlier before Mr. Carson and I took our leave. The effects will certainly be stronger now that Mr. Holmes has joined us."

Moriarty looked defeated as Baird's face glowed in remembrance. "I'm not entirely confident what all of these effects you speak of are, but I _can_ presume you are meaning to say that everything of which I have been dealing with as of late will become more pronounced, and I _am_ entirely confident that I do _not_ want that. Not at all."

Holmes quirked an eyebrow. "Talkative." He turned to Jenkins. "Do you care to explain my present situation in a bit more detail? I do not fancy remaining in the dark. Well, some dark. I already have concluded a lot about you all and this place, but as to how I got here and why remains a mystery."

"Oh, I'd be more than happy to!" Flynn declared.

The genius smiled. "Perhaps we may talk another time. But not now."

"Congratulations, Mr. Carson. You have successfully alienated him." Moriarty smiled. "Your obvious fixation with him will win you no favors, if I'm one to judge. I can almost sympathize with my former friend by basing my judgement on how you acted when I pretended to be him. The way you obsessed over my false identity..." He shrugged. "To meet the real him must have been a nightmare for Mr. Holmes, were it not for honest fact that he does appreciate admiration. So, what did you do that annoyed him?" Moriarty quirked an eyebrow curiously.

Cassandra waved her arms. "Wait, you were friends? I thought you were just enemies."

"No, we were friends. I actually had..." Moriarty stopped talking, opting instead to bite his tongue.

Holmes closed his eyes and counted. "What did you say your name was?" he asked, walking out of the commons as Cassandra tried to continue questioning his adversary.

There was movement beside him. "Jenkins. My name is Jenkins."

He opened his eyes. "What I have acquired so for is that you all believe I am a character from some book, and that I have been brought to the "real world" by a magician, who is also a character from a book. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

Holmes pulled a chair out from under someone's desk as the older man did the same across from him. "And I am in a time approximately 100 years after the time of my book."

"Yes."

"And you and Carson pulled me through a magic door and into a library in order to protect me, which also happens to be the location of my most preeminent opposer."

"Exactly right, sir."

Holmes sighed and shifted in his seat. "Then you do understand why this may be a lot for even me to take in. Magic? A man once dead now alive?" He rubbed his face. "The actuality that I never truly existed but in a single man's eye?"

"That is incorrect."

Holmes straightened his back. "How so?"

Jenkins took his time to respond, taking care to delicately word his phrasing. "You may have once been fictional, but you are most certainly real now. Not only that, but you have existed in the minds of millions. The books you were featured in are widespread and recognizable to any person on this earth. People like Mr. Carson in the other room are, quite frankly, all over, and many would react the same way in the case that they discovered you existed. Though I do apologize that he accidentally shoved you against a closed door. For an intelligent man, he isn't very adroit. Now I have a question for you." He leaned forward, and Holmes realized that his answer would prove to be exceedingly important. "Did you not realize that you were a character from a book when you stepped foot in this world?"

Holmes frowned. "No. I simply remember walking out a door in early twentieth century London and into the street of twenty-first century America. I adjusted quickly, of course, but I never thought... no wonder the woman at the front desk of the hotel was unmannerly when I provided her with my name." He stood up. "I presume that it is odd I didn't immediately recognize that my past was all but tales written in ink. Did Moriarty know he was simply a character when he arrived in this reality?"

"Yes, I believe he did, but his release was controlled. Based on Moriarty's description, yours was not."

"He was there?"

"Yes. You could ask him for more detail, if you so desire. He was working for Prospero, the magician trying to essentially take over our world, though not completely by choice."

"Meaning?"

"Prospero released Moriarty to have him use his genius to make his ideas have substance. As it so happens, Moriarty-"

"Doesn't play well with others. He doesn't like being controlled, or even rivaled, in any way. But he does excel in planning. I could imagine why this Prospero would want to use him. And just to be clear, the Prospero we are discussing is indeed the one from Shakespeare? I couldn't possibly imagine it being any other."

"The very one. Right now we are trying to have Moriarty give us more information on what Prospero plans to do, but he hasn't given much. The Sphere of Truth that he's holding will make him tell no lies, even compel him to tell any secrets or unspoken truths, but he's been resisting surprisingly well." Jenkins sighed and rose to his feet. "My assumption is that not only is he working incredibly hard to fight against the spheres effects, but the fact that he is a fictional provides some form of magical support."

Holmes brushed his hand over the wooden top of the desk. "You think that my presence will lower those barriers. With me there, he'll be more likely to spill everything he knows." It was a statement. He was absolutely certain that was what the former knight was going to say. "You already have tried other methods. They didn't work."

"Unfortunately. We found a second Sphere of Truth not too long ago that had a connection to the one he's holding. One of the librarians, Ezekiel Jones, tried to extract information using that connection. He apparently found something, but it was irrelevant."

Holmes paused his motion. "What made it irrelevant?"

"I suppose it was something unwritten in your series that was personal about him. Mr. Jones refused to tell us what."

"All information can prove useful, if I've learned anything from my work as a detective."

"Indeed it can, but Moriarty told Jones that if he told us anything, he would also tell us what he learned about Jones."

Holmes nodded. "So a deal was struck. That is quite unfortunate." He paused. "And now you want my help, _Galahad_ , along with your presumably formal military leader of some kind, cowboy and art buff, self-concerned thief, the girl with a brain injury that's quite possibly a tumor, and Carson."

Jenkins forced a smile. "If it would not be too much trouble."

* * *

"You pushed _Sherlock Holmes_ into a _closed door_?"

"It was an accident! I was just so excited, and Prospero was closing in, and I was trying to hurry, and it just happened!"

"Well," said Moriarty from his chair, bemused, "no wonder he was irritated."

"Oh, shut up. I didn't ask for your opinion." Flynn retorted.

"And yet, I felt inclined to say it. Must have been the Sphere of Truth accompanied by my own desire to annoy you."

"You guys," Cassandra huffed from the right. "I was actually trying to interrogate him. You know, _be productive_."

"Didn't look like you were getting anywhere," Ezekiel replied, always helpful.

"Well at least I'm trying. You won't tell us anything! You were in his head, and yet you apparently don't know _anything_ about his plans with Prospero. How is that even possible?"

"He wasn't _thinking_ about the plans, that's how."

"Or maybe he was, but he just found out something about you that you don't want to tell us. You'd want to look out for yourself before you help the rest of us."

"Yeah, you keep saying that, yet I always come back so help you. I've put you all first, and you know it."

"If I may intrude," said Moriarty, his voice surprisingly soft. The two turned their glowers onto him as he gave them a pitiful look, "I was not thinking about Prospero when he intruded. What your thief is saying is true. Trust me. I swear," he continued, though it seemed as though it weren't on his own accord, "you are worse than my brother and I."

"Your brother? You have a brother?"

Moriarty sighed. "Had. He's long since past by now."

"Oh. Sorry. Were you thinking about him when you and Ezekiel-"

"No."

"Oh. Sorry. And sorry to you, too, Ezekiel," she said. "It's just-"

"Don't bother," he interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "I don't mind getting blamed."

"He's used to it." Moriarty blanched. "Son of a-"

"Did you seriously just do that?" Ezekiel exclaimed, turning on him. "We had a deal!"

"I didn't even say much! It slipped!"

"Now I'm confused," said Jake. "The fact that you get blamed for things a lot was a secret?"

Moriarty leaned forward in his chair and looked over at Jake as Ezekiel just turned his head and let his arms fall loose to his sides.

"That's probably because my comment wasn't overly explicit. Mr. Jones simply overreacted a bit."

"Overreacted, mate? It's what they can gather from what you said that bothers me. How would you like for me to slip up something, huh? Maybe I'll just tell Sherlock-"

"I'm going to interrupt you now so that you stop talking. Sound good?" Moriarty tried to fake a winning smile that instead came out frail.

Jenkins cleared his throat, causing everyone's attention to turn on him. "Fighting among each other will not solve any problems. Librarians, Guardian," he said, nodding his head at each of them respectively, "Mr. Holmes would like to... have a chat with Moriarty."

"Alone?" Baird asked.

"Oh, that's not necessary," replied Holmes dismissively. "I certainly won't feel like repeating anything I get from him back to you later, so you might as well save your time. Anything in particular you all need to know?"

Flynn looked at everyone before shrugging and speaking out first. "What does Prospero plan to do? Why is he having you collect all those magical artifacts? What's he going to use them to do?"

"Well?" Holmes noisily dragged a chair over so he sat directly in front of Moriarty. "Go ahead. Answer."

Moriarty shifted and looked down. He bit his lip. "He needs more power to restore magic to the lay lines. To... reinstate the natural world where magic runs free. Once he does that and regains full control of his power, he'll be the most powerful man here."

Holmes squinted his eyes in suspicion. "Then why would he need you?"

"Lately he's been having me find artifacts." Moriarty closed his eyes. "Is my face bruised yet? I'm pretty sure it's going to bruise."

"And you've changed the subject." Holmes studied him for a quick moment. "You are obviously nervous. Your hands are shaking, you won't so much as look at me, you are constantly shifting, not to mention that sphere is glowing which most certainly means something. Knowing how well you always were at hiding your emotions, you must be scared to death right now. And, for once, you aren't the one in power." He leaned forward. " _Why does Prospero need you_?"

"You're right." He continued looking down, but turned slightly to the side. "I am good with masks, Sherlock. This bloody thing strips me of them. So of course I won't look at you, _of course_ I'm scared, because I feel as though Prospero may have no real use of me left. I helped him to get Ariel and to find whatever he required, but now what? What happens next?" He shook his head, annoyed. "He gets you. And he probably wanted to use me to win you over. Why? I have no idea. I'm quite certain that I've become a nuisance to him. He will probably get rid of me soon, won't he? And yet, it's still in my best interests to work with him."

Holmes blinked. "That is quite dramatic. Why is it still, as you say, in your best interests to continue to help him? What does he give you in return?"

"The same as Jones," he said, finally looking up to nod at Ezekiel. "Keeping to himself. Then the added benefit of becoming free, though that... I'll see if that truly does occur. You never know."

Holmes stood up and looked at the Librarians. "Obviously he isn't lying. Anything else you want to learn from him?"

It was silent for a moment before Baird spoke up. "Actually, I do." She walked over, her shoes clicking as she went, until she stood, crossing her arms in front of him. "You said that you and I had a lot in common. We're builders, whereas Flynn and Holmes are runners. What else is it?"

"Oh," he said lightly. No." Moriarty pursed his lips and shook his head, looking disappointed. "I would really prefer not to say anything about that. But I will say that I did lie. You and Mr. Carson seem to go together well enough despite your differences."

"How nice of you to say. Now, you scheming brute, answer her question so we can move along."

"Move along, Sher- Mr. Holmes? Do you have somewhere to be?"

Holmes smiled innocently. "No. I'm quite alright here. There's just something I want to do."

Moriarty blinked. "I'd guess, but I honestly have no notion of what it is you are evincing."

"Answer her, Moriarty."

He glanced around, considering his options, it seemed. A way to answer in the most desirable way possible. Then, "Perhaps we aren't all that similar after all. I plan, but I generally let others set those plans in motion. You like to get things done yourself, be involved. You dedicated your life to helping people and fighting for what you thought was right. I often destroyed people, built something that I know all too well was wrong. You've worked to construct and assemble while I built to destroy simply so I could gain from it. No," Moriarty said, seemingly pleased, "we aren't so similar after all. You'll be the only one to win in the denouement."

"I could still shoot you."

"It wouldn't kill me."

"Should I once again remind you about your knees?"

"Touche, Duchess."

Ezekiel stepped forward. "While we're already avagoing to get answers, I might as well give it a shot." He bit the inside of his cheek, then loosely pointed at him. "If I were to throw you off a cliff by yourself, would it kill you?"

Flynn and Holmes both lifted an eyebrow. "Violent, much?" Flynn said as Holmes stated, "Someone is feeling a bit violent today."

Flynn looked pleased as Holmes pretended not to notice.

Moriarty shrugged. "I... don't know. Perhaps if I was the one throwing myself off rather than having you... push... me."

That caught both Cassandra and Holmes' attention. "What...," started Cassandra, "what do you mean by-"

"And if it were me pushing you?" Holmes asked. If Baird were to guess, she'd say the detective was testing him.

Moriarty swallowed. "That could work. Maybe."

Ezekiel nodded. "Is that because..." He waved his arms.

Moriarty nodded.

"Hold on," interrupted Jake. "What's... this?" he asked, waving his arms in a poor imitation of Ezekiel.

"Nothing," replied Ezekiel and Moriarty.

Jake glanced between the two of them before just shaking his head. "Alright, whatever. Why don't ya'll exchange numbers while you're at it."

Ezekiel only looked mildly surprised and annoyed at that comment while Moriarty's eyes widened considerably and his face flushed slightly.

Holmes laughed dryly. "That would be quite the audacious statement in our time, if I am correct about what you're implying."

Jake shrugged. "A bit more popular now."

"Hm." Holmes gave him a sidelong look. "Are you..."

"What? No," he replied hastily. Holmes smiled and glanced between Jake and Cassandra as the former took an unconscious step closer to her.

"I see. Now!" he continued, 'What other information did you need from our favorite archenemy?"

"They don't _need_ anything else, Sherlock. I've told them quite nearly all they've asked."

"Except how Prospero plans to carry everything out, and I'm nearly certain you've had some part of that," Baird interrupted.

Moriarty sighed before sagging his shoulders. "Simple, really. All he has to do is gain enough power to knock out electricity and increase natural growth considerably. None of that internet, no phones, cars, telly, light bulbs, the sort. A few more trees."

Flynn darted over to Holmes' side. "What other artifacts is he getting?"

"Sorry?"

"What other artifacts has he asked you to get?" Flynn asked. "He'd need some really good ones in order to be able to pull something as big as that off. So that begs the question: which ones has he asked you to get?"

He lifted his gaze to Flynn. "He rarely tells me in advance. Most recently he simply told me to find the most powerful one I could. That just got me in this situation."

"Since when is it Sherlock?"

Moriarty finally looked up at Holmes questioningly. "What?"

"Since. When. Is. It. Sherlock? You've always called me Mr. Holmes until you held this sphere which makes me ask myself _why_? So I'm asking you. Since when is it Sherlock?"

Moriarty's face paled. "I..."

Holmes sat down in the chair. "Why is it such a difficult answer?"

"Because I thrive on manipulation. You, of all people, would understand, yes?"

"Understand that you're hiding something? Obviously. But why," he paused and leaned forward in his chair, "I intend to find out."

Moriarty's face twitched. "I'm sure you will eventually, but the Librarians and their duchess have more important thanks to do, likely with your help."

"And that is?"

"To find Prospero and stop him. Surely they don't want this world going black and white and I accidentally hit myself in the face once with a broom."

Holmes reared back. "Where the devil did that come from?"

Jenkins stepped forward. "The Sphere of Truth combined with your presence probably just wrought that out from somewhere," he confided, making an excellent attempt to smother any laughter. "And Moriarty is correct. If we want to stop Prospero, we need to act quickly. Where is Prospero right now?"

Moriarty glanced up at him. "He moves around. Ask Ariel."

"Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"Sorry, Duchess. Last I met him we were in New York, but apparently he almost ran into you all when you found Sherlock. He might be looking for me. He may even try to call me back any time now."

Ezekiel was grabbing a jacket but stopped for a moment to look at him. "Call you back?"

Moriarty nodded. "Yes. He does have the power to summon me. Considering how long I've been here, it could happen at any moment, though I don't actually know what would happen if he tried since I'm bound here by... all of this."

Jenkins turned to Flynn. "We should get moving, Mr. Carson. If Prospero manages to collect everything he needs-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Who all's coming with?"

Baird looked around. "Cassandra and Ezekiel can stay here with Jenkins. That way they can be here in case anything goes sideways. The rest of us will go."

Holmes looked at her. "Including me?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes." Baird looked at Flynn. "I have a plan."

Moriarty rolled his head back. "Oh, yes," he said, sounding sarcastic. "I'm sure that Flynn and Holmes will not love the plan."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Holmes retorted. "I make do with plans sometimes. Just not all the time."

"Oh, please. When we worked together you _hated_ when I planned things out. And yet _every time_ -"

"There's no need to reminisce. What were you thinking, Baird?"

* * *

Ezekiel tried very hard not to be frustrated when Baird said he'd be staying in the library rather then going with them to stop Prospero. Very, very hard. She told him that it was because, aside from maybe Holmes, he knew Moriarty best, and she certainly wasn't going to leave Holmes with Moriarty. "Plus," she said, "you'll be helping us out. It's all a part of the plan, and I'm definitely not excluding any of you all."

"Pfft," he had said in reply. "It definitely seems like it."

She had left soon after that (after everyone got more hugs from Cassandra, including Holmes who was courteously surprised). He hadn't moved since.

"You are aware that staring at the door will not accomplish anything on your behalf," Jenkins stated, shaking him out of his reverie.

He looked concerned. Ezekiel sighed. "Yeah. I know. It just sucks being stuck here."

Jenkins gave him a meaningful look. "I'm sure you won't be for long. Colonel Baird did tell you that she would end up needing your help, correct?"

" _Might_ need my help."

He shook his head. "No. _W_ _ill_ , Mr. Jones. I recommend you stay on your toes."

Before the thief could ask what he meant by that, Jenkins had left to go check on the rooms of the Library.

Ezekiel watched him go with detached interest before grabbing his phone off the table and flipping it in the air. "No. _Will_ , Mr. Jones," he said sardonically. He made his way over to a pair of doors and pushed them open. Cassandra was resting with her elbows on a desk rubbing circles on her temples. She gave him a grin when he walked in.

"Hey," she said. "I'm taking watch duty right now. Any idea what Baird's going to want us to do?"

He sighed. "None. Do you know why she wouldn't tell us?"

Cassandra shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

He sighed. "Well then. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

He trotted out of the commons as two pairs of eyes followed his leave.

"Has the fact that I am imprisoned here on a chair become so commonplace that it has become unnoticed?"

Cassandra's brows came together. "Of course we still notice you. I'm standing guard, remember?"

He was looking at her, a smirk resting on the edge of his lips. "Oh, yes. Quite the guard you are."

She rolled her eyes. _Might as well try to get something done_. "Why don't you want to return to your story?"

"Oh, you mean the one where I'm _dead_?"

Her lips tightened together. "Right." She looked around, as though seeking the room for a sign. Then she moved over and took the seat in front of Moriarty. His eyebrows pulled downwards in exasperation.

"How long have you all been going at this?" he asked. "I've told you what you've asked for. Why don't you just let me go?"

"Would you go to Prospero?" she asked.

He paused. "Fair point."

"You know," she began in a tone that suggested she knew something he didn't, "you didn't even fight the sphere of truth when Sherlock Holmes showed up, really."

"Didn't I? I still managed to withhold some information."

"Self-interest information?"

"Exactly," he said, obviously trying to calculate where she was going with her interrogation.

"What self-interest information?"

His face stiffened minutely.

"What about you telling us that only if either you threw yourself off the cliff or Sherlock pushed you, you would die?"

His eyes darted sideways before he quickly returned her gaze. "What about it?"

Cassandra flattened the edges of her skirt and looked at him. As in really looked at him.

He blinked. "This is getting you nowhere, Cilian."

She brushed some of the curls from her eyes. "Does Ezekiel know? As in why it would work that way?"

"He does."

"Should I ask him?"

"I don't know how he'd feel about that."

Her nose scrunched up. "Why do you think that?"

"Because I have information about him."

"Like how his mother treated him?"

He stiffened. "He didn't want anyone-"

Cassandra smiled softly. "I think you forget that he did hold the Sphere of Truth," she stated in a gossamer tone. Maybe she would finally get somewhere. She sat back in her chair, attempting to look at least a little casual. "The only way you can be free from Prospero is if you help us. You have to get rid of his hold on you." She paused. Cassandra was good with people, people that she could in some way relate to. So she'd have to keep pushing and find that relation. "Baird told us that you told her Prospero has information on you that you'd rather not share. If that's true, his hold is weak. You could just tell me-"

Moriarty flashed her a radiant smile. "Trust me. That isn't all he has on me. The book, remember? That's his real power."

"So what he knows about isn't important."

He barely hid a glare. "I thought you were the nice one. No. What he knows is important. To me, at least. Ezekiel does know some of it, but I'm not entirely sure of how much. And I do know about him, more than you know, I'm sure. So I would not recommend attempting to force me to-"

"You had a panic attack last time I talked to you. You just told you got too lost in thought, but that wasn't exactly it, was it?" She studied his features, calculating his response, finding her similarity beyond the belief the magic was truly just math and science centered in the effects of it in the quantum realm- _Focus, Cassandra_. "I told you... I told you that I had chosen my time so that my brain tumor wouldn't choose it for me. That's when it happened."

He looked into her eyes, changing from annoyed petulance to an attempt at showing complete sincerity. "You shouldn't have to do that." He swallowed and shook his head. "I... you shouldn't be so disposed to end your life. You have friends that care about you. It's not... it is not something you should feel as though you have to do."

She felt the urge to tap her foot. "It's a choice," she said simply.

He bit his lip. "You don't understand-"

"And you do?" she asked, unable to keep from sounding a little brash.

"Yes." He froze. Cassandra sucked in a breath.

She reverted back to calm. Calm was nice. "How?" She tried to think through past conversations. Then, "Your brother? Did he-"

There was a crash from upstairs, followed by a miffed, "Of all the times!" then "I swear!" Ezekiel ran back down shortly after, looking slightly out of breath. "Hey," he said. "Do you, by any chance, know how to catalog books well?"

She didn't look impressed. "What did you do?"

He rubbed the back of his head. "I may have accidentally knocked over a bookshelf. A big bookshelf."

Cassandra didn't bother hiding her mirth. "And why?"

Ezekiel waved her off. "I'll just go ask Jenkins. You're busy, anyway."

She couldn't help it. "I think it's a little weird that an Australian would be scared of spiders."

He tripped over his own feet and face planted on the floor. He just as quickly got back onto his feet and stared down at her in disbelief. "How did you know?"

She released a bubble of laughter. "Just a lucky guess. And of _course_ I know how to archive the bookshelves. Technically, you should too. We're Librarians, remember?"

He straightened out his jacket. "Whatever you say. I'll just-"

"Take watch while I clean up your mess?" She smiled. "That's okay. I'll take care of it."

Relief washed across his face. "Thanks, Cassandra."

* * *

"You took to being told you were a character well."

Holmes turned his gaze to Baird. "I learn to take all things in stride. I live to learn."

She looked over at him as they continued walking. "And what have you learned so far as a fictional?"

Holmes sighed thoughtfully. "It would be difficult to kill me. I also know that I cannot be certain in placing my confidence in you."

She stopped walking for enough time to say, "Wait, what?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Baird. I've only known you for a very fleeting period of time. In that time, all I have done is been used as an interrogation tool and been explained that there is a wizard on the loose. This whole situation may simply be an elaborate setup, though I am doubtful of that. So no, I do not trust you quite yet. I do hope you understand."

She exhaled a frosty breath and nodded. "Of course I do." Baird looked ahead at the Librarian and Jenkins before smiling. "Though I don't know how well Flynn will take that."

* * *

I dropped many hints as to what is to come. Feel free to leave any predictions you might have to see if _you_ can connect the dots (ohmygod please have left enough dots for them). Also, I'd love to hear what you think or want to see! However, any form of support or criticism in welcome. Even just a, "hey" would be lovely. : )

I hope you enjoyed the chapter (longest one yet)!


	6. Chapter 5

Well, I only kept you waiting for, like, one year.

Yeah. Sorry about that.

Meanwhile, I appreciate all the support I've gotten with the reviews and PMS, and I just can't thank all of you enough. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to keep this updated on a steady schedule or that the quality will be as great (you may notice that this chapter is a bit rough), but I don't plan on abandoning you all completely. I do know that was a long wait, and I apologize again (I'm such a crappy person); a lot of unexpected family/personal things arose that sort of took control of my life. However, I have begun writing again, so here you go. ;)

helloyesimhere: Friggin' thank you oh my goodness. Every single review you left made me so happy I physically could not handle it (not to mention they were the final promptings that got me to actually publish this chapter). And with your idea regarding Ezekiel and Moriarty: they aren't _actually_ brothers, but that is the sort of relationship that I'm building between them, so good eyes! :)

lakariana: Thank for reviewing! I'm glad that I was able to clear up that plan because I was so confused when I first heard it explained on the show, so I wanted to clear that business up. And don't you worry too much about Moriarty! ;D

Guest: Thank you! Moriarty is also one of my favorite characters (as if it wasn't obvious enough). I'm sure we all fangirl over the archvillain at one point or another xD

Bubin: Thank you again for PMing me! That did help to bring this story to my attention (as I had begun other projects), so thank you for doing that! Your review was greatly appreciated! (and don't ever worry about your guesses being completely wrong as they could honestly end up being something I end up trying to twist into the story ;) )

Thanks again to everyone especially for your patience!

All previous warnings apply.

Disclaimer: I own nothing (if I did, Moriarty would definitely be a regular I mean come on)

* * *

Baird had come up with a plan. Flynn thought that it might have been a _bit_ weak, but he'd never tell her that at the risk of losing a limb. However, he could come up with plenty of ways why this wouldn't work out. Chances were it wouldn't.

He had a feeling that she may have figured that out already.

So Flynn led the way, Ariel in hand (one of the more reasonable parts of the plan) to guide them with Jake beside him. He would glance behind him on occasion to spot Holmes and Baird chatting every once in awhile and then keep his mouth shut to avoid saying something stupid. If pushing one of the smartest men in the world into a door wasn't bad enough...

Baird essentially wanted to track Prospero down. Holmes would be something akin to bait, which they were quite lucky he didn't mind doing, in order to distract him long enough for Jake to sneak up behind him and hopefully knock him out (as per usual) while Flynn recited a spell he expected would maybe bind him to another copy of _The Tempest_. He wasn't even sure if the spell would work; it had taken hours of Jenkins and him sifting through discarded books scattered throughout the library before they finally came across such an enchantment. They just needed the right moment to test it out. Apparently now would be a good time.

Eve would do the honors of standing watch, and she would step in if anything went downhill. She also claimed that she had a backup plan in mind but didn't say what it was. Flynn just hoped that lack of voicing that backup plan was not due to it being so weak and flimsy that it might as well not count. Or it would make him unhappy. He certainly didn't want that.

Ariel suddenly chirred excitedly and pushed onward even faster than previously, catching Jake's eye.

"We almost there?" he asked Flynn.

Flynn shrugged. "I hope so. That way we can get this done and over with."

They continued walking in silence, aside from the occasionally whirring from Ariel. Then Jake chose to interrupt by clearing his throat. Flynn lifted an eyebrow at him. "What?" he asked.

Jake turned to him. "You think this'll work?"

The older Librarian thought about how to answer that without sounding like a kill-joy. "Honestly? Probably not. But it's worth a shot. Plus," he said, looking behind him, "Eve might just have something up her sleeve."

* * *

Jenkins had joined Cassandra upstairs not too long after he had heard the crash resonate through the Library. She was deftly working on organizing books into structured piles while the shelf itself still rested face-down on the floor. He resisted the urge to sigh.

"Ezekiel?" he asked, startling her slightly.

Once she regained her composure, she smiled. "Yeah. There was a spider."

That time he did sigh. "Of course. Would you like some help picking that up?"

"Sure! Thanks, Jenkins," she replied cheerily.

They each took hold of a side of the bookcase and heaved it up, Cassandra grunting with the effort. Once they got it up, she clapped out her hands.

He waited for a couple moments as she awkwardly reshaped her stacks into perfection. Seeing that she wasn't planning on speaking her mind, he spoke, "Is something troubling you, Miss Cilian?"

She exhaled unhappily. "I want to help Moriarty, but I don't know how. He's not letting me."

Jenkins looked at her thoughtfully. He had carefully prevented any judgment from passing his features. "Why do you want to help him?"

She dipped her head slightly. "I know Baird keeps saying he's the arch-villain and all, but he hasn't really done anything wrong. This whole time he's just been working for Prospero, and not because he wants to. It's just... it isn't right."

Jenkins nodded. "I suppose that I understand." He began idly picking books up from the ground, keeping Cassandra in his line of vision. "What have you done to try and help him?"

She shrugged before methodically placing a batch of books in order with barely a glance. "I've talked to him. He said that Prospero's main hold on him was through the book, and the rest was through what Prospero knows about him beyond what the book includes. I've been trying to figure out the information since he keeps slipping up bits and pieces, but he won't just flat out _say it_. I don't know why."

Jenkins stopped moving for a moment and turned his gaze to meet hers. "Sometimes people don't want their secrets exposed. It's what keeps us human, in a sense. Once everything is laid out for all to see... there is often not much else to live for."

She blinked. She blinked again. "Wow," she said. "That was deep."

He placed some of the books on the shelf. "Once you have lived for as long as myself, you learn to... be deep."

Cassandra smothered a small laugh by clearing her throat. "So, um... you have any ideas? I've already tried finding out what we have in common so that I might be able to relate to him."

Jenkins continued shelving the books. "And have you found it?"

She tilted her head and grabbed some of the books. "Found what?"

"Your commonality. Have you found it?"

There was a long pause in the conversation as Jenkins continued placing books in their respective places while Cassandra stood in her place still holding the books, looking into space. Finally, she replied, "I'm not entirely sure yet." She bit her lip. "I know that he has had personal experience with suicide. He got completely flustered when I talked about it. I think that his brother may have... y'know."

Jenkins squinted at her. "Are you certain? Did you ask him if that was the case?"

She shifted her footing slightly. "I was about to when Ezekiel knocked down the bookcase." She finally moved to put her books on the shelf. "Why? Do you think I'm wrong?"

Jenkins huffed out a small puff of air. "I don't know. But what you need to ask yourself is if you should force him to tell you or simply allow him to tell you."

Cassandra placed one last book on the shelf. "You're right. I'll go talk to him now!"

"Wait, Miss Cilian, please, that wasn't what I was- ah. I suppose I will just finish the rest of this myself."

Cassandra bounded down the stairs to meet Ezekiel and Moriarty in the commons. The two appeared to have been in a staring/ glaring contests of sorts until she finally made her appearance.

"Hey, boys," she said warmly.

They both gave her an unimpressed look. "You need something?" Ezekiel asked impatiently.

Cassandra nodded deliberately. "I just need to ask him a _quick_ question."

Ezekiel shrugged. "Shoot away. I'm sure he won't mind."

Moriarty frowned. "If I may disagree-"

"Was it your brother? Was I right?" she leaned forward onto her toes for a brief moment.

Ezekiel tilted his head. "Wait, wait- what are you talking about?"

Cassandra gave him an annoyed look. "Moriarty has had some kind of personal experience with suicide." Ezekiel's eyes widened slightly.

"Hold on. Did he tell you about th-"

"No, _Mr_. _Jones_ , I have _not_."

"Oh."

Cassandra sighed. "So you know exactly when I'm talking about?" Ezekiel bit the inside of his cheek, causing her to sigh. "Well, Moriarty? Can you just answer me?"

His face contorted slightly before he finally spoke up. "No. Not my brother."

 _What_? She was wrong? That wasn't something that happened every day. "Oh. Your dad?"

He rolled his eyes. "No."

"Mom?"

"No."

"Oh, oh, oh! A twin sister that you never told anyone about?"

"Don't be ridiculous. No."

She pouted, placing all her weight on her left leg. "But that doesn't make any SENSE." Just then the phone to the annex rang. She locked eyes with Ezekiel, and he nodded.

"I'll get it," he said. Ezekiel stood up and jogged out of sight to answer.

Moriarty sighed. "Don't tell me it's the Duchess. Is she requiring your help?" He gave her a sarcastic grin. "After all, your belligerence towards me has been very unappealing and I obviously would have every reason to want you to leave."

Cassandra held back a hurt wince just as Ezekiel barged through the doors. "They need our help," he said.

Moriarty's face went from sarcastic to 'I told you so' in the staggering time frame of half a second.

"Fine," she said as she glared at the captive fictional. "Did Baird say why?"

He shook his head. "All she said was to go to the location Jenkins set on the globe to meet her there."

Moriarty made a slightly distressed humming noise. "Tell him to be care-ful."

He squeezed his eyes shut and lifted a corner of his upper lip in full 'didn't mean to say that' style. Cassandra blinked. "Who do you mean? Tell that to who?"

"You mean me? Or... Flynn? Or, maybe... Sherlock? Jake? Which is it, mate?" Ezekiel asked, a small smirk riding his features.

Cassandra pursed her lips and shook her head. Now was not the time, but she would definitely push him on that subject later. Not to mention that she was certain there was some kind of connection between her question and the statement he just made...

"Tell Jenkins he needs to watch Moriarty," she ordered. "then we can go ahead and leave."

The thief's grin turned into an oddly pleased smile. "Sorry, but nope. Jenkins isn't watching anybody." He quirked his eyebrows at the man in the chair. "He's coming with us."

"What?" they both responded, Cassandra with more curiosity and Moriarty with more vice.

"Yup!" He clapped his hands together. "This is going to be _fun_."

* * *

Flynn and Holmes were both staring at her with that same look. Like she had just made the worst decision of all bad decisions ever. And the most undelightful part of it all was that they MIGHT just be right. Of course, she'd never say that. Not to either of those attention-seeking, too-smart, competitive, supercharged, overexcited puppies. While they were both geniuses in their own rights (though, of course, Sherlock Holmes WAS smarter than her Librarian), they didn't seem to understand how annoying it could be when they conversed about 'very smart things' or gave people like her incredulous looks that suggested they knew more than she ever would. Like now.

"You plan on bringing Moriarty here? As in, _IDIDN'TJUSTHEARYOUINCORRECTLY_?" Flynn asked as he gesticulated aggressively.

She grabbed each of his hands and calmly pulled them down to his sides. "You have to trust me, Flynn," she said earnestly, though not entirely sure who she was trying to convince more: herself or him.

"It's not _YOU_ I don't trust," he whined. "It's _HIM_."

"Well, if you don't trust him, then trust his self-interest."

"Sounds exactly like something my lovely foe would say, don't you think?" Holmes interrupted as he lifted a knowing eyebrow. "And besides," he sauntered on past the two of them, "I don't trust either of you, yet here I am."

Flynn's eyebrows shot up. "You don't trust us?" he exclaimed, pouncing on after the man.

"Shouldn't have said anything!" Baird called on up to him, to which Holmes responded with a dismissive shrug.

She continued (falsely) confidently, having become the one in charge of Ariel since Flynn decided that Holmes should be over getting hit in the face with a door. She (unfortunately) was well aware that her plan was very likely to go south. But it was better than the plan she had originally told everyone else (aside from Jenkins) to her original relief; she just didn't want to have to put up with the protests and bickering she'd receive. But she had told them the plan, and it apparently wasn't as much better than the original one, as she had previously suspected. Baird had Flynn and Holmes to thank for that.

The plan involved Moriarty. Stupid, cunning, handsome Moriarty. And as much as she wanted to punch him in the face, using him to their advantage would be even better. But if he refused… or even if Prospero decided Moriarty was as much of a nuisance as she did… or what if-

Positive thoughts. Right.

She made it to the designated meeting spot and sighed, snapping Ariel shut. Ezekiel and Cassandra would show up at any minute now.

It was situated atop of a small, rolling hill. The mildly tasteless ruins of what may have once been someone's lonely home, isolated completely from the rest of society rested atop it. She quickly repressed down on a shudder. It bore too much in common with the House of Refuge, where she realized just how bold and broken Cassandra truly was.

Then the three stooges came crashing through what was left for a front door. Ezekiel caught his footing as Cassandra and Moriarty managed to collide into each other and collapse to the unforgiving ground below. Moriarty scrambled right back up to his feet before lending a hand to Cassandra. Baird face-palmed. Moriarty still had the Sphere of Truth in one hand, but he no longer had on the handcuffs. It was probably Cassandra's idea to remove them, with that wonderful, forgiving heart of hers. Unfortunately, somewhat inconveniently, too warm of a heart.

"Heya, Colonel Baird," Jones quipped, apparently not having noticed the train wreck behind him.

Jake came running out of the down the path like a caveman on steroids. "Eh! What's he doing here?" he asked with angry surprise. Baird briefly wondered why, after all he'd seen, he still managed to be as stupefied as he did.

"It's okay," she said before Ezekiel could respond and further corrupt the situation. "I asked them to come."

He had a look of brazen horror on his face. "You? Why?"

Baird rolled her eyes. "Because we needed a better plan, and this is it."

" _MORIARTY_ is your plan?"

Cassandra brushed some red strands of her from her face before turning her gaze up to Baird. "But what really is the plan? We can't help if we're all in the dark."

"Yes, indeed, Duchess. How could we possibly help you if we don't know the plan?"

"Oh, shut it, British pig." Jake was glancing dangerously between Moriarty and Cassandra until he appeared to have deemed the latter safe. "Why haven't you tried running yet?"

"I thought you told me to shut it."

Jake gave him a _you-wanna-go?_ look.

"I wouldn't get far if I tried."

Jake grinned. "Good. I appreciate the honesty," he snarked.

Ezekiel was peeking around Baird into the path beyond. "Where are Flynn and Sherlock?"

"Currently brooding."

Moriarty snorted. "Sounds like something my lovely friend would do."

Baird felt like she got a serious case of deja vu. "What did you just say?"

He tilted his head curiously. "Sounds like something my lovely friend would do?"

She blinked. "Huh. Holmes just said something almost exactly like that a little bit ago. Just a small difference."

Suspicion seemed to lace in with his curiosity. "What difference?"

"He said foe, not friend."

Moriarty attempted to school his features back to indifference. The object in his hand provided no support for such a thing, and she caught sight of what may have been disappointment before she moved on, pretending not to notice as Cassandra seemed to take the details of Baird and Moriarty's chat together as though it were a part of an important equation she was trying to solve.

Baird crossed her arms and glanced at each of them individually as she started to explain her idea. "We're still going to have to keep up with part of the plan in the beginning since we don't know of any other way to trap Prospero except through that other copy of _The Tempest_ as of now, but distracting him with Holmes definitely wouldn't be enough. Chances are that Prospero would just trap him, render him useless, or maybe even find a way to control him somehow. We can't have that. We need something to add on. So," she solidified her gaze on Moriarty, "we use him."

"Because I'm expendable," he said flatly.

Birds smiled. "Look at you, catching on. Besides, Prospero sent you to get a powerful artifact. It wouldn't be a surprise that you found one."

He frowned. "Except I'd be exceptionally late in bringing it to him."

" _Fashionably_ late," Ezekiel countered. Moriarty shot him a glare.

"Anyways," Baird pressed on, "you're going to bring him the Sphere of Truth. Tell him that you ran into a little trouble with the Librarians and their Guardian along the way. Easy enough, since it's true. You'll give it to him. While that's going on," she turned to Cassandra, "you remember the science fair magic pentagram thing we made a while back?"

"Yes, of course."

"You and Jake will be setting one up around the perimeter surrounding Prospero while he's distracted. We'll want all the magic to be localized in case something goes wrong. But Prospero will probably be prepared, so Jones will be in charge of trying to get whatever Prospero might have that could be increasing his power away from him."

"Just one thing. Why should I help you?"

Even though Baird had anticipated such a question to come from Moriarty, she wasn't at all prepared to answer. However, Cassandra smiled. "To keep him safe."

Moriarty's face turned a fierce red. "What? No, I didn't even say-"

"You said to tell him to be careful. While you're here, you can keep him safe, right?"

Moriarty's eyes were wide with possible consternation- Baird found it hard to discern.

Baird looked between them, from the red flush of maybe anger creeping up Moriarty's neck to Cassandra's determined eyes. "Did I miss something?" She asked. "Because I feel like a lot went down in the fifteen minutes I wasn't there."

Cassandra tilted her head. "Yeah, I'm not really sure what it means either or if it actually has anything to do with us at all, but it has some importance to Moriarty." She turned her doe-eyes over to Ezekiel. "Do you know?"

He shrugged and tossed Ariel from one hand to another, studiously ignoring Baird's shout of surprise over the object's relocation, and glanced sidelong at Moriarty. "I can guess."

"Guess what?" came a voice from behind the thief, and he nearly dropped the fairy's cell. He whipped around to look at the detective.

"Really, mate? Was creeping up on me really necessary?"

"I do not creep, Ezekiel Jones."

"It was nothing," Baird chose to answer to stop the feud before it started. "I was just finishing explaining the plan."

"Oh, yes. _That_ plan." Holmes turned a bored stare to Moriarty. "A _great_ plan, don't you think?"

"I'm afraid I must disagree, Sherlock."

"I was using sarcasm."

Moriarty sniffed. "I was plenty aware of that. I just had to retort in such a fashion due to this sphere. Are you certain you don't want it?"

"Quite. Anything that you're in the mood to tell m-"

"It was about me."

Holmes face morphed from bored to an excessive state of confusion. "That doesn't make sense. You were talking about yourself? For what? The person who wants the sphere? Or, rather, a different matter entirely?" He strode up to the other fictional. "Come on." He smiled. "Speak up."

Moriarty's eyes were wide in nearly unbridled fear as he turned to give a pleading look to Ezekiel, of all people. "Earlier, I was more or less-"

"Y'know what? Doesn't matter. We don't need to hear what all o' that was 'bout. Let's focus on finding and stopping Prospero." Jake only shared a momentary look with Moriarty, but Baird saw that flood of relief and gratitude that embodied the entirety of the villain's countenance.

Holmes frowned at that. "I will figure it out, likely very soon, James Moriarty. And at what point, pray tell, did you begin to take his side on these matters?" He finished with a swerve to glower at Jake.

"Because he's right," Baird responded tersely. "We need to get to Prospero before he gets to us. Now, Ezekiel. Hand over Ariel."

He shoved the watch into her hand with a grumble of annoyance.

"Good. Let's head out."

* * *

Moriarty stumbled his way up the side of the mountain, biting his tongue to subdue an obnoxious complaint. He'd already rigorously explained the flaws with the plan, and highly likely chanced that someone- specifically HIM- would pay for those flaws. But he was doing this anyway- following through on that awful plan. Why? Because he was an idiot. But only sometimes. A small number of times.

Like this time.

Brilliant.

Prospero would be angry, very angry. He wasn't certain he could talk his way out of this one, but he'd certainly have to try.

Ariel whirred in excitement, and Moriarty's stomach dropped. They were getting close. He could practically feel the tension radiating off his own body. This bloody sphere of truth. Even with the breeze in the air, he was beginning to sweat. With Sherlock standing so near him, even while not asking any questions… He was certainly feeling its effects.

Someone slipped into the space next to him. "Hey, mate. You ready for this?"

Moriarty laughed bitterly, perhaps a tad more boisterously than he intended. "No. Why are you acting as though you care?"

"Because you'll really be putting yourself out there. This is a risk. I can sympathize with that, I guess."

"Why do you care?" he repeated.

"It's rare when I'm nice. Appreciate it, will you?" Ezekiel retorted.

Moriarty sighed. "I do, in a way, I suppose. But you have also been incessantly abhorable."

"You lay it on thick, mate."

"Boys," said Baird.

"Yes, Duchess?" he responded almost immediately after.

"We're almost there. Everyone needs to start getting into position."

"Why do you call her duchess?" Sherlock asked Moriarty. He prodded the latter's shoulder, sending a shudder down his spine.

"It was for effect," Moriarty replied seamlessly. He felt as though he were talking through the sphere itself so long as Sherlock's hand rested on his shoulder. "I-I wanted to make a point. I often do things for show. That was a part of it. I even went so far as to say I'd take her dancing."

Sherlock lifted a smooth brow. "But isn't that Carsen her-"

"Yes, yes, he is. I was just saying it. I didn't mean it. Well, not entirely."

Sherlock barked out a laugh. Moriarty found it quite difficult to focus on Baird's words when Sherlock was so near. "You _flirted_ with her, Moriarty? Are you truly that comfortable in this new century?"

The heat rose up his neck. Moriarty hated that. He could usually control such mundane things so well. "To be quite honest, I'm not entirely sure if I've ever fit in either time period."

"And why's that?"

"Moriarty! Are you even listening to me?" Baird scolded.

"It is difficult to hear you over Sher- Mr. Holmes. Again?" He bit back on his next words. _Again_ he'd called Sherlock by his first name.

"Holmes, stop distracting him, will you?" Baird's hands were placed purposefully on her hips.

"Whatever you want, _Duchess_ ," Sherlock mused.

Moriarty stared at the globe. He would lose no matter the outcome. Ezekiel, the boy, knew it. He knew it. Had his life truly become so awful as to necessitate a losing situation no matter which direction he turned?

"Don't tell me you're wallowing in self-pity," Sherlock snarked. Moriarty wrinkled his nose.

Baird released an annoyed sigh and strutted over, hauling Moriarty away by the arm. "You two are going to be kept separate for now. Happy?"

"No," Moriarty quipped. "Not about being kept separate or anything else, quite honestly. I do believe you could understand."

She bit down on her lip as Ezekiel took Ariel from the palm of her hand. He tossed it in the air.

"Where do you want me, Colonel Baird?"

She snatched the fairy back and haplessly shoved Moriarty a foot away from her. "Where do you think, Jones?"

"Right. I'm the expert, as usual." He grinned before winking at Moriarty and slipping out of the way.

Ezekiel would need to find a sturdy tree that would be close to the proposed location where Prosperous might show up. It would also have to be near several others trees in case he needed to shift to a different spot for one reason or another. There'd also need to be plenty of foliage: all would be for naught if the magician spotted him. Ezekiel stuck his hands in his pockets, electing to ignore Baird as she continued trying to defend her plan against the verbal assaults and hand-waving from Flynn. How likely was it really that this would work? _MAYBE_ the spell would work. _MAYBE_ Prosperous would fall for whatever it was Moriarty would tell him. _MAYBE_ the satanic-or-perfectly-normal pentagram would ensure that the magic stayed in one spot. _MAYBE_ Holmes's presence would enact enough distraction. Maybe, maybe, maybe. He smiled. It was unpredictable. It was fun. This would prove to be exciting for the thief.

* * *

Cassandra had already mapped out the whole perimeter and marked the spots where the magic would be held. In her head, of course. They still hadn't quite reached Prospero, but when they did, she'd be prepared. She had already coordinated everything with Jake so that they'd be more than ready when the moment came.

However, Jenkins' voice kept running through her mind. "The commonality. Have you found it?" She was getting ever closer, but it might be too late. No one knew what would truly happen in these upcoming moments. Prospero could very well destroy Moriarty somehow before she found out.

Why was he risking himself, anyway? She recalled his statement about telling "him" to be careful. Perhaps the Sphere of Truth was enacting its power over his actions; Jenkins did say it could do that. He'd be forced to act on the truth. Maybe risking his life for "him" was a part of that.

Cassandra assumed that the "him" was Sherlock Holmes.

It wasn't much of a stretch, especially considering how he repeatedly called the other fictional his friend. Sherlock could still be a friend to Moriarty, and as a result, Moriarty was going to protect him as friends did.

Speaking of Sherlock Holmes, Flynn was with him again. Maybe he'd gotten bored of trying to convince Baird that she was out of her mind about Moriarty. "Moriarty can't be trusted!" he'd explain, which was reasonable. However, Cassandra thought differently in this particular instance. Besides, all they had to do was ask him.

Baird suddenly made eye contact with Cassandra before nodding and discreetly pointing a finger to her right. The signal to hide and prepare.

She grabbed Jake's arm. "Let's go," she whispered.

He smiled in the way that was only ever reserved for her. "Let's do this. You ready?"

"Almost." Jake sputtered as she ran over to Flynn and Holmes. She gave each of them a hug, which was obviously an unprecedented action for Holmes.

"Why must you provide so many displays of affection?" he asked.

She ran on toward Baird and assaulted her with a hug as well. Baird returned it willingly.

She caught Ezekiel just as he was starting to climb a tree. Cassandra pulled him back to the bottom, to which elicited a yelp from the younger Librarians, and hugged him as well.

"Alright, alright. Good luck to you, too, Cassandra."

One last person. She ran over to Moriarty and squished her body up against him. He hesitantly patted her on the back.

When she finished she held him out at arm's length. "I don't know why you do that," he stated.

Cassandra smiled softly. "It's because I know how important it is to say goodbye."

She left him to ponder on that as she jogged back over to Jake. She squeaked as he embraced her in a hug of his own. "Don't think ya could leave me out on this, Cassie."

She grinned against his chest. "Of course not."

When he let go, he was serious. "Now, we have a job to do."

* * *

Moriarty's hands were shaking. That in itself was absurd. He was nervous to face Prospero after being so "fashionably" late as Jones had put it. The orb was pulsating colors in the rhythm of his heart beats, seeming to sense his fear and making no motion to nullify it.

It was true that he never felt like he had a place in his 19th-century novel. Unknowingly, Sherlock had touched upon that only mere hours before they left for this land. Thankfully, he'd ended up directing his statement toward Stone rather than to Moriarty.

Prospero was close. He could feel his pull even as he stood there.

It had taken no small amount of convincing from Baird to have Jones toss the fairy compass from the tree to (or more correctly, AT) Moriarty. He now stood in a clearing, waiting for Prospero, and hoping that everyone around was well and truly prepared.

And he had to hope that they were truly on his side.

"Ah, James Moriarty. I am surprised thou hath chosen to show up at all."

Prospero really had stopped his rhyming as Moriarty had requested before. "I ran into trouble with those Librarians and their Guardian. My apologies on the delay." This would be tricky, speaking only in truths.

"Trouble?" Prospero cooed, a small swirl of blue magic forming in the palm of his hand. Prospero didn't give him the impression of patience. "I do desire that does not mean you were unsuccessful. After all," the magician took a step closer, "that was the only task I bestowed upon thee."

He was referring to the powerful object, which was made more obvious when the magician's glinting eyes scanned the criminal's palm.

"This, here, is the object your little friend, Ariel, led me to when I asked her to search for the most powerful source of magic in the vicinity. Would you like to take a look?" Moriarty just needed Prospero to move a few steps closer. If he stepped into the sigil, his magic would be weakened.

Then Flynn wouldn't have much time to trap Prospero in the book.

Those beady eyes narrowed. "There is something you refuse to tell me. Speak now, villain."

Moriarty took a deep breath and quirked up an eyebrow. He could not fail this, not now, not with what Prospero knew. "There are many things I do not tell you. Perhaps you could understand my unwillingness to share."

Prospero hummed. "No. That is not it." He stared down his nose at the fictional. "What is this artifact?"

Moriarty swallowed. "It was labeled as the Angel Gem at the museum."

Prospero took a step forward, and Moriarty's breath caught in his throat. Only a few more steps. "I see. And what kind of trouble did thou find with the Librarians and their Guardian?"

"They captured me temporarily, but I still managed to find you." Awkward phrasing since he couldn't use the word escaped.

"So you tell me, villain." This time the word was spat, and it took every ounce of Moriarty's energy not to snarl right back. The Sphere, as though it sensed his disgruntled state, rumbled in a series of rapidly evolving colors. Moriarty bit his cheek as Prospero took another curious step forward.

"Interesting," he said, peering closer. "What is it detecting?"

"My irritation," Moriarty quipped.

Prospero's brows knitted in a frown. "It detects emotions?"

Moriarty sniffed and attempted a confident smile. "I do not know."

The magician's lips upturned in a snarl. "Then tell me, fool, what does this object do?"

His hands started to shake as he forced his jaw to a close. Not yet. He needed Prospero closer, needed to distract him longer so Cassandra and Stone could close the sigil around them.

Sherlock chose to make his appearance at that immediate point, emerging from the bushes with a gleam of deviltry in his eyes. Moriarty's heart began to pulse a little faster. "Why, hello." Sherlock's lips split into a cocky grin. "Have we met?"

Not his best entrance. Moriarty attempted to keep his expression neutral, halting a smile of all things, as Prospero's eyes narrowed into slits. "I see you have returned to me, Sherlock Holmes." Those eyes snapped to Moriarty, causing his body to turn stoic in fear. "What is thou doing here with thy foe?"

The question was directed at Sherlock, but his gaze still gripped Moriarty's. He wiped his empty palm against his pants leg.

Sherlock's hands were interlaced behind his back as he studied Prospero, those keen eyes scanning over every inch of him, taking in all the notes as to who this being was and what advantages he may have.

Moriarty remembered when Sherlock had done the same to him, seemingly unaware that Moriarty had crafted himself into a closed book.

The observations took seconds, and the detective prepared himself a response. "I often stay where I am familiar, Prospero. He is the only familiar being in this place, so naturally, I approached him."

Moriarty swallowed. That piece of crap. He was not saying what was planned. Sherlock was supposed to deny that he was willingly following Moriarty; he was supposed to say that he'd been keeping tabs on him without him noticing.

Prospero laughed sharply. "Is that so? Moriarty must have been most pleased."

The magician's gaze hardened. He was yanking at the fictional's leash, taunting him with the information only he and Ezekiel Jones knew. Sherlock, to no surprise of Moriarty's, noticed the power play.

"Pleased?" Sherlock sent a mischievous wink in Moriarty's direction. _That's unlike him_ , he thought as he held back the flush of red. _What did he notice about Prospero that I didn't?_ "I highly doubt that. He's been anything but amicable since I joined him."

"Oh, but it is so," Prospero drawled. There was a rustle in the tree above him, and Moriarty naturally looked up. Ezekiel was propped on one of the branches giving Moriarty a thumbs up. The sigil was finished. "After all, he does care about thee quite deeply."

Moriarty's blood chilled, and his heart began to stretch out his ribs.

Sherlock offered an indignant snort. "You have old information, I'm afraid. We were friends at one point, but then things changed. And after things changed, we threw each other off the side of a cliff. One would hardly call that caring."

Prospero moved that final step forward. Moriarty's whole body was beginning to shake now. "That may be how you perceived the event, Sherlock Holmes, but thou is mistaken."

Moriarty's clutch of the sphere hardened, and it emitted an ominous red. _Don't say it._

Prospero shifted even closer to Sherlock. Why wasn't Carsen starting the incantation already? "Thou foe killed himself to give thee a chance of survival."

So rare were the moments when Sherlock was taken aback, and Moriarty usually enjoyed those moments with a wicked grin on his face. This time, however, he blanched as the detective turned to him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Moriarty? What is he talking about?"

The Sphere of Truth seeped the words from his throat easily so long as he stared in Sherlock's eyes. "When we fell from Reichenbach, Sherlock." Even his name rolled off his tongue so smoothly he felt a welt of spite form. "I- I positioned my body beneath you so that you may have a chance to survive."

Sherlock shook his head. "That is absurd, but…" He looked at Moriarty sidelong, "I have no choice but to believe you. Tell me, then. Why did you do it?"

Moriarty sighed, rattling his bones. "We were friends before, Sherlock. I much preferred that over being foes."

Prospero clapped sharply. "How emotional, my friends, but I must end our meeting. Sherlock Holmes shall return to where he belongs, and I presume such an undertaking will not be pleasant." He smiled at Moriarty. "Unless you wish otherwise."

"There is catch," said the fictional plainly, his grip on the orb tightening. Where were those bloody Librarians?

"Of course, villain. And I know thou will agree." That infernal smile widened, and he pulled a black, silk glove from his pocket. "First, hand me the Angel Gem."

"Gladly." Finally, it seemed that something could be going right. Finally.

But, as one would expect, Ezekiel Jones had to ruin it.

"Fair suck of the sav!" came from above followed shortly by a violent rustling and a crack.

"You are bloody kidding me," Moriarty deadpanned as Ezekiel fell to the ground before him.

The thief groaned.

"Some thief you are," Sherlock mused.

Prospero growled. "You dare to conspire against me? Fool!" No sooner did those words come that blue infiltrated the magician's fingers.

Moriarty gritted his lips and closed his eyes, bracing for that electric shock that always burned him to the very core.

"No!"

The impact never came.

Instead, the sounds of Ezekiel screaming battered his eardrums.

"Jones!"

Baird's frantic yell.

Moriarty stumbled back, cracking open his eyes to see the boy writhing on the ground before him.

A part of him snapped.

"Enough, Prospero! Withdraw your hand immediately, or I will ensure that my last act here will be to kill you!"

The zapping stopped. The boy was gasping. A quick glance to the side ensured that Baird was, indeed, running towards them, a frantic, motherly haze shrouding her eyes.

"James Moriarty," Prospero hissed, "that offer only stands so long as thou lives."

And now a transparent hand was grabbing his neck, choking the air from his lungs.

And now the incantation was being read.

And now the darkness was flooding his vision.

* * *

Something had gone wrong.

Before Flynn had taken this detail seriously, he'd exclaimed, "Called it!" earning a much-deserved glare from Eve. And a slap to the back of his head.

He'd rubbed the spot, accepting the fact that what he said was stupid.

Cassandra blinked owlishly in front of him. "What are we supposed to do?" she asked. "What isn't working?"

Flynn didn't bother asking if there was something incorrect from a mathematical standpoint, seeing as Cassandra must have already gone through every possible problem before approaching the older Librarian. "This plan isn't working. That's the problem."

Plans didn't always work, but maybe some spontaneity could.

"I need to get Jenkins. You finished making the satanic pentagram correct?"

"That isn't what it's called, but yes."

Good, good, good. Not really, but positivity would do.

"What're you planning?" Jake asked, suspicion lacing each word. Rightfully so.

"Nothing! I'll be back. Keep distracting him and do what you do whatever that is and good luck even though you're all screwed."

And that was when Flynn _literally_ ran away. As in, a dead sprint.

Baird frowned. Flynn just ran away, bringing their last chance of trapping Moriarty with him. "Crap," she said.

Jake nodded. "Yeah, um. Okay. That just happened." He lifted his eyebrows and looked toward Cassandra. "Any idea what he'd doing?"

She shook her head. "No clue."

That was when the screaming started. Baird stiffened, her eyes wide. "Ezekiel," she whispered. She turned to the two Librarians. "Stay here and wait for Flynn. I'm going to get Ezekiel."

"But-" began Cassandra, but Baird was already gone. She brushed a hand through her hair. "We can't just stand here," she said.

Jake shook his head. "You're right. But I 'ave a feeling Flynn's gonna need our help."

Cassandra's shoulders slumped. "Fine. Unless he takes too long. In that case-"

"I'm back, I'm back, I'm back!" came the telling. Flynn darted from the shrubbery gasping for air. "I'm… back. Whew. Jenkins!" He spun in all directions. "Jenkins!"

"Right here, sir." Sure enough, Jenkins ambled into view.

Cassandra frowned. "That was remarkably fast."

"Good! You brought it?"

"Of course, sir."

Jake shook his head. "Found what? What happened?"

"Oh, good! You two are still here." Flynn held out the book. Take this. Jenkins and I are going to weaken his powers since the pentagram isn't working. Unfortunately, that means using a magic artifact, but that's okay for now. Cassandra, you're going to lead Stone to a spot _exactly_ fourteen meters from where Prospero is standing. Once you're there," he fished a piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to Cassandra, "you'll read off this, and Stone will be reading from the bookmarked page in _The Tempest_. Jenkins and I will be reinforcing your abilities in a way. We need to move quickly, otherwise Prospero will probably kill us all or something drastic _I DON'T KNOW_. Got everything?"

"No," said Jake as Cassandra said, "Yup!"

"Fantastic, now go!" Flynn shooed them away.

Cassandra bustled on, followed shortly by Jake on her heels. "How is this plan any better?" he asked her as they ran in the direction of Prospero.

"Because Flynn said so," Cassandra assured.

They made it there just in time to see Prospero holding out a hand and Moriarty falling as Ezekiel was hauled out of harm's way by Baird.

Jake shared a look with Cassandra.

She nodded.

Jake opened _The Tempest_ as Cassandra unfolded her paper, and they both began reading their respective pieces.

* * *

Cliffhanga'.

My most sincere apologies.

Reviews are always extremely appreciated, as they are quite honestly the things that keep me going.

Predictions (and ideas) as to where the story goes next would be awesome, if you so choose to leave something like that.

And also: what are your favorite relationships/pairings in the story (including purely platonic ones)? I'm trying to figure out which ones I should delve into more, so I'd love ideas!

Thanks for reading!


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